Featured Poet – Margaret Chula
end of the walk
returning the crow’s feather
where I found it
sound of a moth
trapped in a paper lantern
summer rain
entering the tea room
the tea master
and a firefly
grinding my ink —
a black cat
howls in childbirth
cubes of tofu
float in my miso soup
winter deepens
Margaret (Maggie) Chula began writing haiku while living and teaching in Kyoto from 1980-1992. Her collections Grinding my ink (1993) and The Smell of Rust (2003) received HSA Merit Book Awards, and One Leaf Detaches (2019) was awarded a Touchstone Distinguished Book Award. Her latest book of haibun, Firefly Lanterns: Twelve Years in Kyoto, earned a 2022 NYC Book Award in Multicultural Nonfiction. Maggie now lives in Portland, Oregon, where she hikes, swims, and creates flower arrangements for every room of the house.
my breath part of the leaf’s tremble
– Jim Kacian
foundation stones
here and there in the chicory
a barn’s essence
– Julie Schwerin
hitching a ride
on the shinkansen
rabbit moon
– Roberta Beary
needing no introduction winter rain
– Laurie D. Morrissey
winter sunset …
a taste of white
radish
a flutter
in the high-beams —
brief summer
– Shawn Blair
garlic wafts in church holy ghost
– Laurie Wilcox-Meyer
fern frost
the evanescence
of a dream
– Christopher Patchel
#feminism
a flock of sparrows stir
the fata morgana
– Hifsa Ashraf
shaking the dust
from an old carpet
night stars
– Lori Kiefer
Celtic journal …
how mom’s gifts manage
to tie me up in knots
– Shelli Jankowski-Smith
holidays
eating with my family
me myself and I
– Chris Langer
my father’s funeral
a tangled kite
between the clouds
– Vincenzo Adamo
white walls —
the cry of a child
just born
– Maria Teresa Sisti
cupping blossoms
the scent of mother
in my cold hands
– Jo Balistreri
Welcome Inn —
a coroner’s van
parked in front
– Ruth Holzer
fleeing from
the woodpecker
Pinocchio
– Roberta Beach Jacobson
wife’s to-do list
the moon and I hiding
in the pines
– Bryan Rickert
mountain hut
the tooth fairy
wears hiking boots
– Pat Davis
arboretum pond
a family aping
the koi’s mouth
– Nathanael Tico
in the peach
the peach in
a small seed
– David Kãwika Eyre
shedding its skin
the snake
still a snake
– Bonnie J Scherer
making thicker fog
in the fog
a row of chimneys
– C. Jean Downer
matryoshka …
dressing
in layers
– Rosa Maria Di Salvatore
black ice
i fall deeper
into the fairytale
– Roberta Beary
another day …
he looks through the hospice window
to winter skies
– Chen-ou Liu
afternoon stillness
the space
between us
– B. L. Bruce
his silent stone
between our shadows
stunted grass
– Robert Witmer
lake at dusk
the oars push back
its silence
– Hifsa Ashraf
night flight
starlight takes
the seat beside me
– Adrian Bouter
female rain . . .
an awakening of color
in the pebbled lane
– Julie Schwerin
fado
an old calendar
on the ground
– Daniel Birnbaum
spring dawn
I tell my dream
to a budding rose
– Mona Bedi
sukiyaki season —
memories of the mountain
& the singer
– Keiko Izawa
studying Bashō
schools of
tadpoles
– Roberta Beach Jacobson
frumious Bandersnatch
correcting my son’s pronunciation
of a nonsense word
– Joshua St. Claire
science fair
the lifespan
of facts
– Pat Davis
spring semester —
I give the same student
another pencil
– Lenard D. Moore
arbitration
us two …
E=mc²
– Stephanie Newbern
dandelion seeds
a hint of girlhood
in granny’s laugh
– Antoinette Cheung
library —
an old cowboy
with a new western
– M.R. Pelletier
new year
another lottery ticket
in my bag
– Meera Rehm
train tracks
grandpa and grandson
sprawled on the floor
– Barrie Levine
Senior MetroCard
I arrive
at a new station
– Tea Lady
first love
blueberries on the stem
before they turn blue
– Antoinette Cheung
imagining your answer cloudless sky
– Richa Sharma
telephone wire
cutting the moon in two
long distance love
– Danny Daw
he asks to try
every flavour
first date ice-cream
– Louise Hopewell
late night dessert
two candles
melting
– Margarita Drozdoff
long winter
so many holes in the homeless man’s
belt
– Jim Krotzman
skid row sunset
looking west
toward Rodeo Drive
– Michael Henry Lee
meth mouth
leftover pumpkins
sag into the fields
– Dave Russo
Napa Valley
he tells me of a good
whisky bar
– John S Green
bruised apples
another year on
the waiting list
– Herb Tate
pandemic anesthetic we’re all in this tog(ether)
– Susan Burch
check-out dilemma
the teen behind me
with just a coke can
– Ravi Kiran
80-inch tv one dead pixel
– Greg Schwartz
the clock missing
its second hand
in the second hand store
– Suzanne Leaf-Brock
fuzzy cactus
its hair
like grandma’s
– C.X. Turner
hitting hard
his last words …
cloudburst
– Hifsa Ashraf
how the lie
unravelled
u s
– John Hawkhead
such low expectations mondo grass
– Carolyn Hall
heavy frost
if only he knew
how to listen
– Samo Kreutz
ebbing tide …
I text him a photo
of a heart-shaped rock
– Kristen Lindquist
desert moon
the shadow of a coyote
crosses the border
– Rebecca Drouilhet
ravens overhead
nothing we don’t already know
in the doctor’s letter
– John Hawkhead
midnight
the cat’s eyes
fully black
– Tony Williams
night prowl —
skirting the boundary wall
a tuxedo
– Rupa Anand
hunger moon
a shadow glides
across the snow
– Jeff Hoagland
stargazy pie
a fixed point
of gastronomy
– Joanna Ashwell
tonguing yesterday stuck between my teeth
– Kimberly Kuchar
fusion breakthrough …
plexiglass shields between me
and the bartender
– Chen-ou Liu
loving
the one I’m with
mackerel sky
– Bryan Rickert
click of clippers —
thumbnail moon
arcs across the sky
– petro c. k.
spring stars …
my universe
still expanding
– Rebecca Drouilhet
First Day
all the puddles
cracked open
– Brad Bennett
unknown constellations —
the brightness
of new dreams
– Angela Terry
sand dollars —
ocean waves uncover
the path forward
– Stephenie Story
first star
I see tonight
great horned owl
– Jeff Hoagland
quiet conversations
dusk turns on
a streetlight
– Shawn Blair
evening stillness
his small mouth
forms my sighs
– Michelle V. Alkerton
blue hour …
ink on the papers
yet to dry
– Stephanie Newbern
day after day waiting waterlily buds
– Ben Oliver
year’s end
a different silence
in every room
– Mark Forrester
blue streaks
in the afternoon sky
your dirty jokes
– Mariel Herbert
impressed by her sense of misdirection
– Nathanael Tico
election night
bounced checks
and balances
– John Pappas
a white tie affair
dressing
the deer
– Jerome Berglund
Halloween
she wears nothing but
her black cat
– Jon Petruschke
taking
the path less traveled…
poison ivy
– Bryan Rickert
rabbit
or old man
same moon
– Neal Whitman
disposable goods
realising I’m ready
for landfill
– John Hawkhead
fears come back
before midnight
I change the calendar
– Carmela Marino
turning sixty-five …
no more recycled content
in our toilet paper
– Curt Pawlisch
river otters —
remembering what it is
to be young
– Kevin Valentine
electric kettle —
tea
without ceremony
– M.R. Pelletier
here to there
what is what isn’t
tombolo
– Thomas Powell
a late moon
widens the sky
New Year’s Eve
– Jim Kacian
the emptiness
of a rocking chair
palm fronds
– Arvinder Kaur
an icy door
doesn’t latch
the year ends
– Dan Schwerin
salary negotiations
my boss raises
his chair
– Birk Andersson
flyfishing finally catching some zzz’s
– Susan Burch
new year’s eve
the sex-worker dressed up
for church
– Ravi Kiran
lazy river …
tourists greeted
with a drawl
– Christine Wenk-Harrison
picking up the pace
as I pass each bin
garbage day
– Scott Wiggerman
Mimosa …
the colours
of a birdsong
– Françoise Maurice
mudflat avocets
winter
in black and white
– Beverly Acuff Momoi
drizzle
the fuzzy logic
of pussy willows
– Marilyn Ashbaugh
transfusion
different blood groups
horsefly and i
– Christine Eales
short cut
through the corn field
a couple of fishing poles
– Randy Brooks
cup of bubble tea
the length
of her love story
– Wai Mei Wong
dried flowers
all that is left
of your smile
– Christine Eales
anniversary dinner
he takes
the call
– Greg Schwartz
finding my room empty sky
– Vandana Parashar
love forever …
her tattoo now
only skin deep
– Pat Davis
autumn equinox
sweetgums
color the sky
– Carolyn Hall
seaside cabins
the shy kids come out
of their shells
– Cynthia Anderson
winter morning
inside the gargoyle’s mouth
a bird’s nest
– Gordon Brown
dust devil
she combs the pasture
from her hair
– David Watts
winter sun
a child plays chasey
with shadows
– Louise Hopewell
sun-warmed rock —
in a crevice
the softness of moss
– Janice Doppler
war ruins —
blades of grass
push through
– Mariangela Canzi
Indian Paintbrushes
the fields dripping
with red
– Kimberly Kuchar
another day
of dire headlines
recycled
– Helen Ogden
bomb cyclone
palm trees shedding
frozen iguanas
– Mike Fainzilber
perspective
watching the war
in peace
– Chris Langer
forced flowers
from a bowl of stones
not quite spring
– Peter Newton
after you left
let it be
on repeat
– Kerry J Heckman
for such a cold day
a new kind of bitterness
Mexican chocolate
– Shelli Jankowski-Smith
motionless clouds
a former classmate pretends
she never knew me
– Judit Hollos
ursa major …
meditating
on my anger
– Theresa A. Cancro
partly cloudy …
how to change
my default mode
– Christopher Patchel
deadline day
louder and louder
the wryneck’s call
– Tomislav Sjekloća
winter bossa nova
the guitarist’s
chapped fingers
– Keiko Izawa
alphabet soup —
I feed words
to my feelings
– Allison Douglas-Tourner
video interview
trying to hide
my background
– Birk Andersson
winter chill
the ouija board begins
to creak
– sanjuktaa asopa
frost night
after our storm
I make tea in silence
– Christina Chin
lightfall
down a narrow side street
pickup blues
– Kathryn Liebowitz
dark night
the child draws
a white moon
– Minal Sarosh
winter solitude
a huge smile
on Amazon’s package
– Carmela Marino
dementia …
his storm door
slams shut
– Richard L. Matta
first light
the new neighbour coughs
like the last one
– Annie Bachini
DNA
my cousin and I sharing
the condolence card
– Deborah Karl-Brandt
first seizure
in eight years
unexpected snowfall
– Cameron Morse
storm clouds broken up
we put the puzzle
back in the box
– Wilda Morris
signing her will
the flip and loop
of falling leaf
– John Pappas
in the grove
of the mother tree
family picnic
– David Watts
Aunt Violet
in her name
the scent of her
– Barrie Levine
two women
near a weeping willow
share a laugh
– Neena Singh
a red dragonfly
stops in midair …
indecision
– Meera Rehm
abandoned temple
a cuckoo still sings
for the deity
– Srini
golden toucan
on a mango tree
rainbow’s end
– Kenneth Mory
smooth seas
a dolphin pod
becoming waves
– Debbie Strange
blue skipper
fluttering fluttering
shoulder pain
– Deborah P Kolodji
rowan tree
the shifting winds
of loss
– Joanna Ashwell
her scent lingers …
that last leaf
on the branch
– Joseph P. Wechselberger
baby names
that little book
we never opened
– Robert Witmer
windstorm
a weeping cherry
weeps no more
– Marilyn Ashbaugh
last goodbye
a leaf drifts
under the bridge
– Jay Friedenberg
Image by Carole MacRury, Haiku by Corine Timmer
