Featured Poet – Julie Schwerin
pasture tree
its shade
shapes the herd
Ash Wednesday service —
wearing the heels
that pinch
support group …
the comfort of the chair
between us
biking downhill
an Amish girl with bonnet straps
clenched in her teeth
a perfect ensō …
now how
to get out
Julie Warther Schwerin, author of What Was Here (Folded Word Press) and Walking Away From the Sunset (Brooks Books), has served as Midwest Regional Coordinator for the Haiku Society of America (www.hsa-haiku.org), as an associate editor at The Heron’s Nest (www.theheronsnest.com) and on the Red Moon Anthology editorial team. She was one of seventeen poets featured in A New Resonance 9 (Red Moon Press) and has co-edited, along with Jim Kacian, three books in the A New Resonance series.
in the shallows
of the lake
fallen stars
– Jeff Hoagland
night river …
the moon part
of the flow
– Angela Terry
twilight sea pulling a strand of molten glass
– Bill Cooper
Solstice moon
the mercury
of raindrops
– Erica Ison
candlelight
in the shadows
narcissus winter
– Kathryn Liebowitz
midnight bells
stained glass
lit from within
– Meera Rehm
inkstone
the meandering
of rice paper loons
– Kathryn Liebowitz
the trees softly rimed
colours shift
among the stars
– Erica Ison
death ensō —
fully embracing
the white space
– Mark Forrester
a fawn
sips the rain
from a rainbow
– Robert Witmer
the arguments
I have with myself
privy run
– Julie Schwerin
between silence
the librarian
slurps his tea
– R. Suresh babu
her string of pearls
the many ways
I irritate
– Tony Williams
perfume
spraying on
my personality
– Christine Eales
hidden cave
the Neanderthal
in my DNA
– Cynthia Anderson
distant star …
my wife’s cold breath
upon my neck
– David He
snowy drive
the slip then grip
of her words
– Bryan Rickert
matching
the colour of solitude …
grey mist
– Neena Singh
frostbite
breaking up with
a first love
– Stephenie Story
cold moon
she stops using
first plural
– Tomislav Sjekloća
habitat loss
a woodpecker’s
· · · - - - · · ·
– John Hawkhead
Christmas eve
homeless
as well
– Nancy Orr
fireworks …
in the distance
someone still cares
– Ella Aboutboul
shooting star
a wish is not
enough
– John Pappas
glacier melt
tears
from his blue eyes
– Mary McCormack
phone glow
her love
of Vermeer
– Shawn Blair
my milk lets down
for the first time
cherry blossoms
– Amber Winter
alpine bells
calling me back
to myself
– Lori Kiefer
dead week
the deep blush
of a winter rose
– Shloka Shankar
honeysuckle breeze …
the string quartet plays
Vivaldi
– Nancy Brady
rainy day —
she picks herself a flower
from the public display
– Owen Bullock
cracked skylight
a cumulus
of little lies
– Roberta Beary
after confession …
walking home
under nimbus clouds
– Charlotte Digregorio
knitting needles
never a dropped stitch
to your lies
– Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
all his unkept promises winter moon
– Mona Bedi
pretty dresses
never quite fitting
into his skin
– Marianne Paul
receding flood
the dampness in the
Christmas cheer
– Madhuri Pillai
final clearance
her family keepsakes
bagged for Goodwill
– Scott Wiggerman
another year
of mushed food …
she finds another lump
– Tony Williams
an Important Notice
from the fraud department
winter chill
– Carolyn Hall
t he y / t he m
the missing piece
of the jigsaw
– Roberta Beary
two identical vultures
squabble over a stag carcass
Potomac swamp
– Joshua St. Claire
marriage vows
the weight
of his name
– Christine Eales
checkered picnic blanket
the geopolitics of ants
– Antoinette Cheung
soon to be cancelled Mount Kilimanjaro Kilipersonjaro
– Susan Burch
barn owl’s call
the air smells like
nightmares
– Tomislav Sjekloća
snow fleas
no blood will be shed
today
– Debbie Strange
a threnody
of swirling crows
war graves
– Agnes Eva Savich
darkling waters
each night we find ourselves
in a foetal hug
– John Hawkhead
the raw chill
of early winter rain
culling oysters
– Paula Sears
Twilight —
friends in
obituary columns
– Jahnavi Gogoi
following
the news bulletin
”Oh little town …..”
– Annie Bachini
poison pawn
my wife’s father takes
a slow sip
– Evan Vandermeer
chilly night
one of the light baskets
refuses to shine
– Adrian Bouter
at the cemetery —
a butterfly pollinates
the dead leaves
– Vincenzo Adamo
the sinewy twist
of a seaside cedar
spring wind
– Hannah Mahoney
gentle rain
gifting a trophy trout
its river
– Kevin Valentine
autumn equinox
one flip flop left
in the sand
– Brad Bennett
sangha …
river rock edges
worn smooth
– Lorraine A Padden
quiet sea
barely a wave
from the distance runner
– Susan Yavaniski
last autumn leaves
how long do I have left
in me?
– Edward Cody Huddleston
the vacuum of space …
all the particles
in my carpet
– Seth Friedman
blank page
the other side
of our words
– Gary Hotham
wandering thoughts
i am scattered
by the wind
– Alvin B. Cruz
sharing the emptiness —
my bowl
scraped into yours
– Mark Forrester
first spring mow
scrambling an egg filled
with jellybeans
– Richard L. Matta
backstage
wise men trading
baseball cards
– Bill Cooper
light-wrapped trees
the emporium’s
new clothes
– Scott Mason
half awake
hoping it’s the half
that makes coffee
– Laurie D. Morrissey
hey crow stop walking out of my haiku
– Meg Arnot
evening fog
watching friends
become strangers
– petro c. k.
a closed sign
on the psychic’s door
my future unknown
– Lynn Edge
pollarded branches
clipping away dead wood
to find the real me
– Patricia Hawkhead
center of the labyrinth
a sweat bee
rests
– Randy Brooks
the moon
obscured by clouds
winter solstice
– Deborah Karl-Brandt
barbed wire …
the moon between
the old year and the new
– Carmela Marino
highway argument
we cross a line
in our marriage
– Barrie Levine
first crocus
two seasons
as one
– Millicent Bee
senior living
the wavy line
of independence
– Pat Davis
emigrants …
a frontier song
crosses the river
– Vincenzo Adamo
old mermaid nipples
the eyes of his new
owl tattoo
– Amber Winter
shag bark my bachelor neighbor
– Bryan Rickert
Christmas pudding
our neighbors switch on
their inflatable
– Scott Mason
bare trees stripped to her lingerie
– Rob Scott
chopped green onions
on this floating world
egg-drop soup
– Randy Brooks
saxophone
not enough wind
to blow the blues
– Marilyn Ashbaugh
night tide
one last murmur
before you sleep
– Joanna Ashwell
funeral chants
the bell crickets
in tune too
– Rupa Anand
his last breath
suddenly
the silent palm fronds
– Richard L. Matta
on a night
without answers
windchimes
– Ravi Kiran
children
orphaned by war …
leaves in the wind
– Srini
crumpled hoody
on the edge of the bed
our long-gone cat
– Ross Moore
family get-together —
hugging my grandpa
in a photo
– Timothy Daly
mansion fire
wondering what’s become
of their koi
– Keiko Izawa
tea gone cold
our small talk about people
we used to know
– Antoinette Cheung
festival of lights
a candle
touching darkness
– Mike Fainzilber
sunrise —
slowly the day forms
in the curtain wrinkles
– Ben Oliver
where he enters
water
water glimmers
– David Kāwika Eyre
father and son
working off each other
the garden’s wind and light
– Matt Beck
moonless night
an airplane winking
at the stars
– Nancy Orr
clear cold night
calling each star
my lucky one
– Kerry J Heckman
children’s voices
at visiting hour
daylight savings
– Roland Packer
red apple —
the delicious scent
of the autumn wind
– Angela Terry
morning news
I choose
the sunlit chair
– Gavin Austin
appears without fail
the harvest moon
even in this drought year
– Ram Chandran
long covid year of the dust bunnies
– Susan Burch
while we burn
in the southern sun
fiddler crabs
– Julie Schwerin
turning over
a new leaf
assassin bug
– Dylan Stover
crows bobbing
their yes’s
i agree
– Laurie Wilcox-Meyer
feather mouse
a kitten practicing
for the Blackhawks
– Dan Schwerin
peace park
a Doberman touches noses
with a toy poodle
– Louise Hopewell
the shifting shades
of morning
war winds
– Gavin Austin
war or peace
the certainty
of spring
– Meera Rehm
shooting stars
the war veteran
in a fetal curl
– Archie Carlos
at peace
with my imperfections
New Year’s Day
– Ravi Kiran
sgraffito —
sideways rain roughs up
the waterfront
– Kristen Lindquist
dad’s anger missing the bullet head nail
– Jo McInerney
shattering the moon
with an oar stroke
— summer’s end
– Matt Beck
cold snap —
mother’s voice
cracks
– Sherry Reniker
backyard balance beam
Mom and Dad argue
in hushed tones
– Matt Snyder
fleet week
our cat mans his station
under the couch
– Nathanael Tico
conjunctivitis
the farmer’s glasses fixed
on the scarecrow
– Lakshmi Iyer
dollhouse
dad makes himself
even bigger
– Mike White
dappled sunset
pausing in the kitchen
for what again?
– petro c. k.
ash wednesday
returning from church
to vacuum
– Anthony Lusardi
woven
in the maze of lanes
the spectacle of Varanasi
– Jharna Sanyal
road stop —
a gaggle of geese
going south
– Elliot Diamond
forging a path
through morning
the peloton
– Marilyn Humbert
after snowmelt
a stream of cars
flooding the city
– Goran Gatalica
before
we were tourists
stone walls
– Gary Hotham
war or peace
the certainty
of spring
– Meera Rehm
longing for
some tangible company
the romance reader
– Mike Gallagher
houseflies
the places
we make love
– Jeff Hoagland
discounted love —
fifty percent off
the mistletoe
– Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
warming up
strangers sip from cups
without handles
– Christine Wenk-Harrison
pansy pots —
clowns at a garden fete
smiling
– Rupa Anand
bursting blossoms
the baby’s first
kick
– Rob Scott
Sakura Festival
a troupe of geisha
take selfies
– Audrey Quinn
dining al fresco
her pepper shaker
seasons the wind
– Nathanael Tico
scuffing home
with lopsided pigtails
first day of school
– Louise Hopewell
strollers and wheelchairs
next to each other …
grandma’s wedding
– Maya Daneva
new barista
stirring up a free
opinion
– Pat Davis
senior moment
losing hair
with each brush
– Stephenie Story
tree bark dimpled
with woodpecker holes
my to-do list
– Carolyn Hall
lunar eclipse
did I leave
the stove on
– Christopher Patchel
thirty minutes
to select the right ones
skipping stones
– Joseph P. Wechselberger
outside yoga class
a row of forty
empty shoes
– Janet Ruth Heller
occupying my poem cat
– Roberta Beach Jacobson
no winter precipitation —
the snowman
from recycled products
– Daniela Lăcrămioara Capotă
crop rotation
rye to something stronger
this season
– Ramund Ro
between the rungs
of the corporate ladder —
spiderwebs
– Laurie D. Morrissey
nightly news
when did I become
a bruxer
– Christopher Patchel
a blue suitcase
packed with care —
leaving home
– Ruth Holzer
whelk shell —
I let the homeless man
stay the night
– Mona Bedi
wanderlust
missing the family
I never had
– Ganesh R.
Haiga – Ella Aboutboul
