Congratulations to Michael Henry Lee and Jennifer Thompson who open the new issue with their winning poems inspired by our photo prompt.
late summer
sunflowers
make their entrance
the closed-up
amusement park
cicadas roar
fireflies on the outskirts of a moment
lemonade stand
the play of light and shadow
on her masked face
dandelion field
September
floats away
a sad song
on repeat
September leaves
COVID summer
swinging from the tetherball pole
a length of spider web
faint stars
the sidewalk stains
of wild mulberries
thin summer bargaining for more
covid summer
recycling
travel brochures
breezy sunshine
on baseball’s opening day
cutout fans
stealing home
the dragonfly darts
from reeds to shore
dugout
chatter
house sparrows
the barn owl
shaking his head
debate night
harvest moon
laughter bubbles
from the neighbor’s hot tub
autumn in the air
a flit-dip
of chickadees
old kite
that never flew …
early autumn
yellow flecks
the evening sky
fallen apples
hard frost
a blue tarp saddles
the old barn’s roof
fox tracks …
who was I before
I was tamed?
(haiga)
not yet ready
to head back inside
coyote mind
pandemic
the welcome mat
removed
face mask
the eyes reveal
only so much
trick-or-treating
the warmth
of the skeleton’s hand
All Hallow’s Eve
the demons not wearing
their masks
gradually
i resemble the corpse
i will be
plague year
another wave
from the President
wind in the wind chimes
early morning thoughts
of the afterlife
lost
in the corn maze
autumn wind
gloomy morning
a windchime paddle loses
its momentum
we long for life as it was
and the return to normal
(tanka with painting)
updating
my employment status
falling leaves
morning mist
we step
into nothing
a soldier’s return
hill-country bluebonnets
line the road
the ones saved
for the confessional
war stories
fireworks…
phantasms turn
to gunsmoke
November 2020 marks the 20th?year of publication for?tinywords.
thunder
I slide a kigo
into the gun
I am
the city
twice born
imprisoned
with no key
to return
a nonchalant moon
passes through
new inmate
on the inside of her wrists
butterfly tattoos
in the dark
the sound
gun’s safety
downtime the conflict rages
(haiga)
lockdown -
a tin can
rolling
back and forth
with the wind
supermarket queue
within our circles
within ourselves
autumn a little more paprika
“Essential” — a short haibun by Jonathan Roman
lifting the tips
of a spruce tree’s needles
November sun
a rustling
from within
deep autumn
crowded café
a fly goes in and out
of our conversation
spider
in a web
trapping stars
(Originally published in Akitsu Quarterly, Spring 2020)
midnight
a dog barks
the freight train’s length
humpback moon
into the krill’s silence
distant song
higher tides
crabs scuttling
on asphalt
storm surge–
the rising cost
of beach sand
blistering heat a little bounce in the asphalt
melting glaciers the river styx widens
all the plans
we thought we had
sandcastles
(haiga)
art installation
learning again
what I don’t know
art installation
learning again
what I don’t know
library room-
i read her
page by page
first raindrop
words then the story
sinks in
lab report …
in my sister’s voice
winter rain
paper cut
the medical bill’s
sharp edge
dried flowers
all that remains
of my prayers
on the walking path
I disappear
inside my mask
sheltering
the white flutter
of prayer flags
folding prayers. . .
a thousand paper cranes
kindling
this flame
for peace
Beyond fault lines
and the unbearable weight
of the body
the wish for wings
to carry us home …
(tanka image)
thin edge of entropy winter stars
chimes
the wind
in place
vineyard
tasting
the sunset
lifting a glass
to my dear friends…
winter stars
New Year —
I regret last year’s
resolutions
moving again
Buddha in a box
labeled fragile
new sheets
on a new bed
a new loneliness
half moon …
a love
that never was
silver heron
a splash of moonlight
across the pier
kingfisher
a rattle as the river
turns south
morning heat
the neighbor packs down
his cigarettes
early summer
a small town traffic light
green for no one
rural isolation
the secret life
of dandelions
summer heat
more fruit flies
than fruit
summer quiet
the tallest daylily
sways
a hole
through the magnolias
flower moon
porch lights
a trombone slides
into the night
sand castle
already the waves
make themselves at home
a buoy bobs
in the wake zone
lulled gulls
dawn meditation
the valley surrenders
its mist
(haiga)
rehashing
an old argument
frost heaves
winter night
we wrap ourselves up
in rumors
snow angel
the wings still
a good fit
blizzard conditions
signs of life
in the bread dough
cutting roses
back to bone
my father’s iron love
the neighbor boy
saws his cello off-key–
spring breeze
treehouse . . .
I pretend
to make-believe
emptying
the bird bath
sumo sparrows
spring sunrise
the length
of a toppled pine
last light
my body echoes
with frog song