Featured Poet – Dan Schwerin
stage four
his boys put up
a snow fence
leaves past peak
except the devil’s paintbrush,
of course
line at the casket an old flame touches the wood
just how
to hold you
paper kite
church picnic
an ant brings another
to the melon
Dan Schwerin’s poetry comes from life on a farm or making his rounds across thirty-five plus years as a pastor in Wisconsin, and now as the bishop of the Northern Illinois-Wisconsin Area of The United Methodist Church. His debut haiku collection, ⨁RS, from Red Moon Press, won the Haiku Foundation’s Touchstone Award in 2016. His new book of American sijo, lightly, is available from the author. You can find Dan on Bluesky.
deep in the stacks
the hush of someone
finding the right word
– C.X. Turner
weighing
one
word
.
.
.
a
text’s
gravity
– Michael Lamb
lotuses
close for the day
the raga within
– Kala Ramesh
punctuating
my silence …
raindrops in a pond
– Alvin B. Cruz
snowlight …
father whispers
I’m a wizard
– Nicholas Klacsanzky
aspenglow
in the open window
an apple pie
– Robert Witmer
mudslide
Saint Francis leans
into the light
– C. K. Crawford
sunrise kitchen
the baby’s milk
laced with gold
– Mona Bedi
brushing lint
her hand in the light
of autumn
– Shawn Blair
Red Canyon —
crackling embers
in a saj oven
– Roman Lyakhovetsky
from the charcoal lines
the street guy’s
self-portrait
– Matt Beck
an artist’s muse
bare limbs
of a winter tree
– Vandana Parashar
line edits
snowflakes shape
the slope of the ridge
– Kathryn P. Haydon
a new way
to organize my palette
winter dawn
– Joshua St. Claire
cirrus
how little the wind cares
for straight lines
– Simon Hanson
circling slowly
in the near distance
her forgiveness
– John Hawkhead
holding back tears
the fullness
of a gibbous moon
– Julie Schwerin
sakura blossoms —
that intensity
of connection
– Goran Gatalica
empty pint glass
metabolizing
her memory
– Michael Lamb
rude awakening
nothing but a dent
on your pillow
– Alvin B. Cruz
summer grasses …
the barefoot season
of memory
– Angela Terry
morning mist rises
from an empty garden chair
ten years of mourning
– Noreen Ash Mackay
framing faces
of our youth
a film of dust
– Susan Yavaniski
spring blossoms
will you watch them for me
next year?
– M. R. Pelletier
lilac breeze
the scent of my late wife
left behind
– Chen-ou Liu
branch hop
we sit in the twilight
as friends
– Mile Lisica
cherry blossoms
measuring the weight
of her kiss
– Richard L. Matta
balmy wind
my husband’s request for
mimosa salad
– Keiko Izawa
grunion run
getting up the nerve
to say hello
– Frank Higgins
summer behind me
a boy tugging
at my ponytail
– Susan Yavaniski
peeling potatoes
the starch left
in her voice
– Ben Oliver
crimson sunset
a bruise
shadows her eye
– Nicholas Gentile
all about her day …
soda bread wicking
the chicken soup
– Dan Schwerin
time to myself
how his eyebrows
question me …
– Patricia Hawkhead
sleet on the road
she asks how many
before her
– Vandana Parashar
now this message
from our sponsor
crepuscular rays
– Scott Mason
gothic cathedral
we stand in awe
of the entrance fee
– Tom Zille
second coming …
we miss it
again
– Julie Schwerin
Sunday morning
carrying her stilettos
she tiptoes past Jesus
– Steve Black
sun-worshipping
on the museum roof
statues of old gods
– Nathanael Tico
sand dune
shifting grain by grain
to suit itself
– Diane Webster
river stone
for all things hard
forsythia
– Jamie Wimberly
wild Alaskan yeast …
the bloom
of Sourdough
– Bonnie J Scherer
glacier melt
the mountain returns
to the river
– Nalini Shetty
<<entropy>>
a robin centers
the sunset
– Roberta Beary
spring chill
the sound of laughter
at a vagrant’s funeral
– Meera Rehm
a heron rises
the weight of silence
for a moment
– Neena Singh
vagrant wind
no doorway
to rest in
– Gavin Austin
derelict corn field
a crow
on every stalk
– Richard Tice
not carrying them …
what the wind says
about the ashes
– Dan Schwerin
in the dark
beautiful once again
our old bodies
– kei andersen
weighing
my life in my hand
pregnancy test
– Jo McInerney
billowing clouds
this phase
of self acceptance
– Bhawana Rathore
the tissue
my body fails to pass
unripe plum
– Rowan Beckett Minor
orange peel sunset
no longer at ease
in my own skin
– Patricia Hawkhead
first day of spring
I go fishing
for flowers
– Tony Williams
Saturday morning —
counting heads
in the barber’s queue
– Manoj Sharma
spring tea ceremony
the wafting scent of
the new tatami mat
– Keiko Izawa
watermelon afternoon
breathing in the sweet smell
of sunshine
– Thomas Smith
a robin
inspects the new playground
spring rain
– Lev Hart
Sunday morning —
balancing her carne
with his chilli
– Denisa Hanšutová
kitchen kissing
her pie
warming up
– Jon Petruschke
the bend of her back
intentions bend
beyond yoga
– Rituparna Maji
condom machine
pulling it out
too soon
– Jay Friedenberg
orchid sale:
your ex and i
blooming
– Annie Bolger
the garden snail
on our driveway
Ukraine talks
– Archie G. Carlos
cut flowers the isms of women’s day
– Rashmi VeSa
political rhetoric
the stream
never so low
– Bryan Rickert
hard to hang back
in the closet
pronouns
– Caroline Giles Banks
war news
dust where the broken cup
sat
– Gary Hotham
tariffs and more
re-inventing
the salad bar
– Pat Davis
icicles above
our laid-off neighbor’s
point of view
– Archie G. Carlos
presidents’ day
the wonky wheel of
the shopping cart
– John Pappas
sun and wind
unfunded
what on earth?
– Caroline Giles Banks
war threat
embroidering a peace sign
on a bell bottom
– Marilyn Ashbaugh
star anise
the dark energy
of bone broth
– Eric Sundquist
a ghost bike’s
snow-covered roses
february chill
– John Pappas
where the landscape was
a shadow hangs
from a hook
– Brad Bennett
autumn drought
white butterflies hover
over ghost flowers
– Christine Wenk-Harrison
crow moon
a stray shadows
a stray
– Chen-ou Liu
frost on the pines
my hiking days
probably done
– Polona Oblak
Zen garden …
rearranging
my rock collection
– Al Williams
day of rebirth …
among the saints I make room
for the buddha
– Carmela Marino
can’t decide …
practise juggling
or write a will
– Annie Bachini
turning the page
on winter’s poems
morning birdsong
– a p hywel
spindrift
the bride’s bouquet
sails over my head
– Margaret Tau
half moon
a toddler polishing the inside
of grandpa’s shoe
– Bill Cooper
a contrail slices
the sky in half
— March morning
– Nancy Brady
before the rain
hopscotching every
chalked box
– Roberta Beach Jacobson
wedding bells …
waxwings bustling
in the blackberry brambles
– Paula Sears
dark trees
against the sky
my mother’s hands
– Sam Calhoun
dying corneas …
gazing skyward
I imagine a galaxy
– Jenny Polstra
somber silence —
the excessive weight
of a child’s casket
– Kevin Valentine
5:00 traffic
the blank stare
of a deer carcass
– Dylan Stover
winter darkness
feeling today’s failures
as a father
– Evan Vandermeer
skirt chaser —
a surge of seawater
wets my hems
– kei andersen
feng shui
the décor leading
to the powder room
– Christine Wenk-Harrison
committee meeting
the art of
chewing water
– Mike Fainzilber
border crossing —
he confiscates
my bobby pin
– Lisa C Reynolds
unified field theory
a gurgle
from the onesie
– Scott Mason
crossing the creek
in new boots
tai chi class
– Lee Hudspeth
tree
burl
as
if
a
perfect
figure
is
everything
– Nitu Yumnam
tai chi master
his impeccable form
skipping a stone
– Bryan Rickert
a white lock
slipping from her headband
worm moon
– Cristina Povero
door-to-door salesman —
the slickness
of heavy snow
– Paul Callus
neap tide taking my footprints somewhere quieter
– C.X. Turner
a heart-shaped leaf
falls on my lap
our old bench
– Sharon Ferrante
days before Christmas
the carol follows us
into the past
– Gary Hotham
winter light
walking the shadow
of my dog
– Jeff Hoagland
a choirboy’s ruff white daffodils
– Debbie Strange
a spill of absinthe
green lichen spreads
on Oscar Wilde’s grave
– Diane Funston
smashed piñata
candy plus last month’s
news from Oaxaca
– Aaron Anstett
Ginza midnight
drunks on the train
grow confidential
– AJ Johnson
after a long night
the moon
stays up all day
– Rick Jacofsky
new waves
from an ancient sea —
oceanside rehab
– Daniel Skach-Mills
happiness workshop
everyone pissed off
at the delayed start
– Shiva Bhusal
durian
this acquired taste
for tantrums
– Ravi Kiran
switching coats
the number on the napkin
disconnected
– Joseph P. Wechselberger
strike three …
the silent swing
of the little leaguer’s bat
– Barrie Levine
false spring
giving up nothing
for Lent
– Mark Forrester
suicide
my second cousin once removed
removed
– susan burch
moving house my crucifix padded with your panties
– Tom Zille
backcountry …
answering nature’s call
a shooting star
– Scott Mason
named
for my favorite cow
no complaints
– Betsy Hearne
fool’s gold
my notebook
of haiku
– Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
AI explaining Bashō
I try to relate
to a tree in the night
– Malcolm MacClancy
time on my hands …
the palm reader
frowns
– Sharon Martina
a hAIku ≠ a haiku
– Srini
one more borrowed moonoku
– Lorraine A Padden
the tailfins
of a gold eldorado
tallgrass prairie
– Eric Sundquist
honeycombed
for a rainy day
the next generation
– Randy Brooks
hitchhiker’s guide …
a cocklebur rides
into spring
– Marilyn Ashbaugh
empty bleachers —
on the football field
a teen runs ghost plays
– j rap
bass backbeat
shaking the whole car
March gusts
– Kristen Lindquist
broken teacup
a fragment of a flower
stuck in my finger
– Ruth Holzer
the long night
leaches into gray
a two-tea bag morning
– Brad Bennett
kitchen sink
the water-film holds
a miniature moon
– Erica Ison
traveling clock alarm
the muted song
of a house cricket
– Govind Joshi
drying her feathers —
a magpie
on my clothesline
– Ranu Jain
on TV a new goobernatorial candidate
– susan burch
hotel gym
I lift the weight
of jetlag
– Morag Elizabeth Humble
dead owl
nobody
gives a hoot
– Jay Friedenberg
forgotten sunscreen
on Bald Head Island
a ruby-crowned kinglet
– Amber Winter
last scarecrow standing filibuster
– Lorraine A Padden
signs of spring
thoughts awakening
earlier each day
– Herb Tate
memory loss
the fuzzy outline
of a Spring moon
– Maria Concetta Conti
storm clouds
the wariness
of deer
– Nancy Orr
missing most
what I don’t remember
lostalgia
– Helen Ogden
passing plane
every sound gathers
into one sound
– Ross Moore
trying out Lent
the aroma
of chocolate
– Pat Davis
two people sharing
their orchard —
Middle East Riviera
– Mariangela Canzi
curls of apple peel
fall from the knife
the arc of his wrist
– Leslie Umans
grandparents’ orchard …
canning jars filled
with coins
– Matt Beck
ending my fast
this morning’s
Lenten Rose
– Helen Ogden
Haiga – Melanie Alberts
