Featured Poet – Ruth Yarrow
warm rain before dawn:
my milk flows into her
unseen
food bank line —
a pigeon picks up crumbs
too small to see
minor key
of the Hebrew peace song:
the wind
canyon dawn:
a bat folding dark
into a crevice
after the garden party the garden
Ruth Yarrow taught ecology and has been active in environmental, peace and justice efforts for a half century. She has been writing and publishing her haiku since the 1970’s. The most recent of her six books of haiku, “Lit from Within,” received the Touchstone award. Writing haiku helps her be aware of the richness of life.
roasting chestnuts
the whisper
of eventide
– Joanna Ashwell
second hand bookshop
the scent
of dried roses
– Ramesh Anand
mince pies —
he breaks the skin of an orange
with his fingernail
– Meg Arnot
bonfire of leaves
the smell of autumn
deepens
– Rp Verlaine
woven into
the wool of his sweater
pipe tobacco smoke
– Mark Meyer
grandpa’s way
another lesson in reading
the stars
– Pat Davis
autumn break
my shadow leans against
the shadow of an oak
– Tony Williams
mirror maze
his identity crisis
deepens
– Srinivas S
Grandmother’s shawl
the warp and weft
of the old country
– Laurie D. Morrissey
deep snow
cleaning the gravestones
to find dad
– Maya Daneva
all the boys
who had his name
Civil War monument
– Laurie D. Morrissey
redwoods delay in the dialectic
– Cherie Hunter Day
tourists linger
in the enemies’ position
coastal bunker
– Frank Hooven
out of body experience
the long drive
out of Texas
– Lorraine A. Padden
rain pelts my window
can’t go back to sleep
Juneteenth
– Dan Spencer
Texas rose …
her choice
made for her
– Greg Schwartz
up on the roof street dancing
– Marilyn Ashbaugh
New Year’s sake …
the moon has grown
whiskers
– Veronika Zora
freezing rain
the grinning scarecrow
has dropped trou
– Patrick Sweeney
stage fright
the ghost in the velvet curtains
forgetting her lines
– Gordon Brown
2 am smoke rings
in a dim pinball hall
apprentice wizard
– Meg Arnot
above the hem of her dress
night hovers
– Eva Kossmann
flashing round
her black tresses
a blue dragonfly
– Christina Chin
theatre nurse
above the mask
a glint in her eyes
– Diana Webb
the nothingness
that is your web
black widow
– Veronika Zora
a lit cigarette in her fist moonshine
– Joshua St. Claire
the black phoebe
lands on a tree stump
my daughter’s new house
– Deborah P Kolodji
dense fog
even the words
lost
– Samo Kreutz
spreading ashes
at Christmas
unwrapping her presence
– Amber Winter
dusk
I wait for my shadow
to leave
– Roberta Beach Jacobson
retirement exercise
taking the ancient track
to a long barrow
– John Hawkhead
low tide
sitting hand in hand
old lovers
– Mona Bedi
masked meditation
the softness
of someone’s fart
– Ramesh Anand
dust bunnies
all the same colour
as the cat
– Allison Douglas-Tourner
fresh snow fall
neighbours lean on
shovels
– L.L. Hill
my father’s hand
gently nudges …
summer drizzle
– Sangita Kalarickal
string of pearls pretty little noose
– Veronika Zora
windfall apple
I look away
from her new bruise
– Chen-ou Liu
half moon —
still waiting for
her whole truth
– Mirela Brăilean
autumn melancholy
sound of shishi-odoshi
falls deep into my void
– Keiko Izawa
The sea in the evening.
I nearly forgot the timbre
of your voice
– Ornella Vallino
telling ma I’ve enlisted
the sound of rice
busy in the pot
– Frank Higgins
Ikebana
the tall and short
of my talk
– Mallika Chari
young therapist
asking less
telling more
– Hifsa Ashraf
cold coffee
the double meaning
of farewell
– Nika
waning moon
a rabbit tells me
I’m late
– Deborah P Kolodji
moonlight dad circles back to the point
– Laurence Stacey
dealt the white card
wanting to play
just hearts
– Caroline Giles Banks
earworm
i keep repeating
our wedding vows
– Vessislava Savova
fork in the road
King James
heads to the garage sale
– Lorraine A. Padden
purified water
in the plastic jug —
evening sky
– Lenard D. Moore
offshore hurricane
the deep swells
of anxiety
– Kristen Lindquist
the weight
of the matter
summer clothes
– Angela Terry
waiting room
a goldfish listens
to my complaints
– Sherry Grant
last stage cancer
the leaf skeleton
dangling from a tree
– Hifsa Ashraf
faint praise
for a killer —
red-tailed hawk
– Cherie Hunter Day
shaped like hearts …
the shadows of
judas tree leaves
– Richard L. Matta
half-buried leaves
the years we spent together
as strangers
– Hifsa Ashraf
stepping over
windfallen oaks
survivor’s sorrow
– Dan Spencer
vacated grave —
this ache
of nothingness
– Meera Rehm
his burial
the weight of a promise
kept
– Pat Davis
November sun
bits of brake light
in the crosswalk
– kjmunro
hammering notes
from the music room …
spring drizzle
– Lenard D. Moore
one raspberry left
in my lemonade
red rock sunset
– Brad Bennett
dry spell
sprinklers turn on
the peepers
– Sandi Pray
recess bell —
pigeons emerge
from nowhere
– Stephanie Newbern
first love
the sudden flight
of a sparrow
– Mona Bedi
Texas maples
just a kiss
of autumn
– Agnes Eva Savich
Buddha’s cafe
a lotus bud blooms
in a glass tea pot
– Madhuri Pillai
october promenade
the persimmon tote bag
her boyfriend carries for her
– Keiko Izawa
skinny dipping
removing
her tan lines
– Jeff Hoagland
measuring the boy
for his very first suit
the mortician
– Gordon Brown
on Wall Street
a stray cat scratching
skin and bones
– Joshua St. Claire
gone without a will …
swarms of winged ants
emerge from their nests
– Polona Oblak
on the war grave fallen acorns
– Annie Bachini
full moon
an empty plate —
Alzheimer’s
– Corey D. Cook
new shoes
how difficult it is
to walk away
– Nika
aging ears
the waxwing’s whistle
first to fade
– Rick Tarquinio
it seems I’m late …
the rose mallows
tightly closed
– Ryland Shengzhi Li
another year …
my wedding dress
gets smaller
– Kathleen Vasek Trocmet
open door policy
the boss
turns his back
– B.A. France
meditation …
my dog sleeps
beside me
– David He
bead by bead
the scent of basil
fills the prayer room
– Richard L. Matta
hammam —
all my toxic thoughts
running down the tiles
– Cristina Povero
pews empty
the old priest says mass
anyway
– Pat Davis
starlit sky …
breathe in, breathe out
the silence
– Chen-ou Liu
rhythm of the surf …
floaters rise and fall
in my eyes
– Frank Hooven
sirocco wind
a bloom of mauve stingers
litters the beach
– Polona Oblak
high plains grassland —
the 45th parallel
highway marker
– Richard Tice
a river
runs through it
weeping willow
– Jeff Hoagland
sand dunes —
the meanderings
of moonlight
– Neena Singh
drought
lower than the snake’s belly
a mill spring
– Marilyn Ashbaugh
forever summer …
a praying mantis
trapped in amber
– Tony Williams
flash flood
the creek’s
inner river
– Agnes Eva Savich
99 bottles
of beer on the wall
sea glass
– Deborah P Kolodji
midsummer
a tanager perches
on the fire pit’s rim
– Kristen Lindquist
snowonsnow …
a teenager brings some
into the shelter
– Chen-ou Liu
basalt pillars
father used to seem
so tall
– Debbie Strange
cloudburst
the chalk cat’s smile
last to go
– Alexander B. Joy
bare bulb
in a high-rise window
starless night
– Annie Bachini
domed
by candlelight
carolers in snowfall
– Peter Newton
Haiga – pamela a. babusci
