Featured Poet – Bryan Rickert
country mile
the distance it takes
to make a bouquet
one string
barely enough to tame it
dragon kite
summer’s end
I unpack
the smell of the sea
crescent moon
the way the hammock
shapes her body
daybreak
the workers arrive
in their mother tongue
Bryan Rickert, President of the Haiku Society of America (2023-2024), has been published in many fine journals. He was the Editor of Failed Haiku – A Journal of English Senryū (2022-2024). His work was selected for inclusion in A New Resonance 12: Emerging Voices in English-Language Haiku. He was also the recipient of the Touchstone award for individual poems in 2023.
snow on torii
the weight
of cold silence
– Ravi Kiran
night river …
a few winter stars
on the journey
– Lorraine Haig
white frost
the warmth
of spicy gingerbread
– Tony Williams
winter blackberry
up river
a cutting wind
– Jenny Fraser
lake effect
sharing my scarf
with the snowman
– Nancy Brady
alone in bed
half of my cuddle
missing
– Laurie D. Morrissey
in the dark
we don’t let go
after amen
– James Schlett
distant peak
postmarked
from an old friend
– Deborah Bowman
holding
the old woman’s lost hand
a child’s smile
– Robert Witmer
choosing the broken conch
abandoned by others
summer’s end
– Fatma Zohra Habis
drip coffee
not enough time
to find the loo
– Thomas Smith
Zen workshop
a young man’s backpack
filled with books
– Chen-ou Liu
raised eyebrows
over time I begin to
pencil myself in
– Patricia Hawkhead
summer barbecue
the novice cook seeks the chef’s
sage advice
– Monty Milne
organic sadness
getting fat
comes naturally
– susan burch
yard sale
the vacant stare
of a one-eyed doll
– Mona Bedi
morning chill
coffee from Africa
in a cup with my name
– Christine Wenk-Harrison
twists in the pepper
deadnamed again
by the famous editor
– Rowan Beckett Minor
loosened hem
this season too
coming undone
– Nalini Shetty
the hovering
of a humminbird
gen z stare
– Marianne Paul
first love
the things mother would have told
a daughter
– Tom Zille
somewhere
a lid that fits
rainy day moon
– Kathryn Liebowitz
minor tones
of the clocktower chimes
summer’s end
– Christopher Patchel
morning light
the scent of fresh linen
in her coffin
– John Hawkhead
poet’s sickbed
the dustbin fills
with pencil shavings
– Srinivasa Rao Sambangi
a new pasta —
she loves the taste
of its shape
– Scott Mason
sailor’s valentine …
barnacles stud
a pink scallop shell
– Kristen Lindquist
triple cream brie
moon ripples
light the lake
– Kathryn P. Haydon
precious find
inside the mermaid’s
oyster shell bikini
– Jon Petruschke
deep autumn
the curve of her curves
in the moonlight
– Rowan Beckett Minor
withering wind
a fortune slip drifts
through the torii
– Keiko Izawa
hunter’s moon
in the silence
shooting stars
– MJ Mello
the sound of the wind
chimes
scattered by the wind
– Rick Jackofsky
cocooned in snow
the house quiets
her unborn child
– Jo Balistreri
howling wind
the orchestra tunes
to the devil’s chord
– Jennifer Sutherland
winter nightfall
dad fears looking old
when he joins mom
– Lev Hart
the weight
of this blizzard —
mum’s dementia
– Goran Gatalica
an old man
it’s what happens
the owl in the woods
– M. R. Pelletier
mom calling me
by dad’s name
one more snow day
– Archie G. Carlos
snowdrops …
remembering what it’s like
to be in love
– Mary McCormack
new years day
descending the stairs
on rice krispie knees
– John Savoie
campsite
looking for matches
on Tinder
– Gordon Brown
frosty wind
the thin sheen
of her nose ring
– Keiko Izawa
sister’s perfume
the scent of
my mischief
– Martina Matijević
afternoon sun
the snowman
a carrot and two sticks
– Jay Friedenberg
wolf moon
I’ve always wanted
to piss in the snow
– Rowan Beckett Minor
apple smut
orchard air
thick with cussing
– Marilyn Ashbaugh
film noir fest
wishing for a quarter
of Mitchum’s cool
– Nathanael Tico
winter wind —
an empty beer bottle
answers another
– Hynek Koziol
sheela na gig(gles) the va-va-voom of her vagina
– Corine Timmer
bloodroot
here they hanged
witches
– Eric Sundquist
unity candle
the problem
with symbols
– Julie Schwerin
on the path of the just
a
thought
crime
– John Hawkhead
an old debt
I owe Orwell
winter rain
– Dan Schwerin
separating fact
from fiction …
a thin layer of ice
– Angela Terry
breaking
the stone barrier
meteorite
– Cynthia Anderson
indigonads
– susan burch
the old boss
sits helpless
retirement party
– Betsy Hearne
ancient dice …
the pair
i roll
– Thomas Landgraf
stone tower
ivy has breached
the parapets
– Richard Tice
jazz piano
a spill of ice cubes
across the tablecloth
– Brad Bennett
eight years sober …
the whole linden tree
hums with bees
– Kristen Lindquist
being uncultured
i ain’t ever seen
Nō theater
– Gordon Brown
gibbous moon
my shadow wobbling
over the weeds
– Ruth Holzer
harvest break
a blues man sips tea
at sunset
– Shyla Davis
evening walk
a plastic bag drifts
along the boulevard
– John Zheng
grey morning —
I order my eggs
sunny side up
– thomas david
line of ants …
the little
i carry
– Julie Schwerin
coffee shop coffee
all available seats full
of sunshine
– Gary Hotham
threadbare
my hiking cap journeys
by bus and train
– Tim Dwyer
falling rose petals —
deleting photos
of old lovers
– Rob Scott
we take turns
kicking a rock
first crush
– Bryan Rickert
candy cane
the bitter taste
of your absence
– Boryana Boteva
library date
they agree it’s
one for the books
– Monty Milne
raku tea bowl
a crack in the one
that was yours
– Debbie Strange
she dollops her way
around the table
Thanksgiving dessert
– Frank Hooven
river ice —
water flowing over
the water beneath
– Mark Forrester
sakura whirl
one poem
after another
– Mariangela Canzi
winter solstice
turning my double-sided
duvet
– Marie Derley
pole star
spinning stories
round the campfire
– Bob Stewart
spring thaw
dad’s rake bedizened
with cobwebs
– Marilyn Humbert
antique silhouette
someone’s great aunt
who had the vapors
– Scott Mason
cloud gazing
momma pours over
my tea leaves
– Ann Sullivan
hay baling —
a ghost moth
gives up the ghost
– Adele Evershed
a cobweb
falls in my face —
another white hair
– Brendan Edward Kennedy
grandson’s nap
cartoon friends
pause
– Nicholas Gentile
jewel box ballerina
a little brass key
winds back the years
– Simon Hanson
her red crayon …
making a wish list
after Thanksgiving pie
– Matt Beck
waxed corridors
in the elementary school
first light
– Barrie Levine
a dull ache
the bones
in my winter
– Gavin Austin
preparing
for life without you
beaver moon
– C. K. Crawford
hospice
the slow drip
of icicles
– Padma Thampatty
falling snow —
so grateful my winter lasts
a little longer
– Xenia Tran
nightfall
the oncoming squeak
of a bicycle
– Erica Ison
sunday sermon
the quiet space
between words
– Sean Felix
old family vault
the punctuation
of lichen
– Maya Daneva
robberies on the rise
the priest keeps God
locked up at night
– Vandana Parashar
funeral day —
the weight of mud
on my shoes
– Hifsa Ashraf
winter sunday
I turn on
low power mode
– John Pappas
entanglement
without the theory
autumn winds
– Pat Davis
artificial intelligence
emptying the pumpkin
of seeds
– Carmela Marino
cloudy day
my antique sundial
timeless
– Millicent Bee
a pile of leaves
finally he catches
my drift
– Arvinder Kaur
fall back an hour
more names added to
the list of saints
– Randy Brooks
swollen river
slow
ly
s
wallow
ing
the
fence
line
this helplessness
– Lee Hudspeth
cut too short
hospice bouquet
– Edward Cody Huddleston
border town
a raven’s nest
made of barbed wire
– Corine Timmer
nighttime buzz
a falling tree
silences the forest
– Dennis Owen Frohlich
diagnosis …
the river bends this way
and that
– Carolyn Hall
wrong direction
I make a u-turn
at the Holy Redeemer
– Susan Yavaniski
before and after
crossing the river bend
a cuckoo’s song
– Ram Chandran
compass grass
so many ways
to go nowhere
– Shawn Blair
cycling path
autumn
right around the bend
– Ash Evan Lippert
divorce …
ice on the river
splitting apart
– Mariola Grabowska
lenghtening winter
I keep typing with the hope
that autocorrect will fix it
– Alan S. Bridges
my son ravaging
his crab bisque
roseate spoonbill
– Amber Winter
superhero movie —
my inbox
still undefeated
– Seth Friedman
loon’s call
a passing thought
of my ex
– Chen-ou Liu
the end of DST
a trashman
stretching cartoons
– Anthony Lusardi
give us
this day
praying mantis
– Jeff Hoagland
Diwali day
the coffee kiosk dog
keeps his eyes shut
– Vishal Prabhu
winter’s doorstep
the beaver adds another branch
to its lodge
– Kevin Valentine
another moon
rising behind the trees
the old dog smells the night
– Nancy Orr
the backward glance
of a whitetail
spring garden
– Matt Beck
missing a pillow
under the bedspread
mastectomy
– Mohua Maulik
power breakdown
a single candle lights
the hospice window
– Neena Singh
chopping wood —
now both the logs and I
have knots
– Ben Oliver
a sippy cup
in the comfort of two hands
— hospice lift chair
– Bill Cooper
the weight
of leftover sun
biopsy
– Lorraine A Padden
twilight hues
father compliments
my argument
– Bhawana Rathore
after cancer
the fearlessness
of a honey badger
– Rupa Anand
ultrasound —
part of me inside
her body
– Federico C. Peralta
thinning fog —
nothing into
everything
– Lisa Espenmiller
Happy Hour
a pelican soars
across a red sun
– Frank Higgins
still playing
the anti-war song
air raid alert
– Lucas Weissenborn
Veterans’ Day
a parade of wars
in different names
– Wonja Brucker
learning
to tend with care
peace lilies
– Meera Rehm
a new Prime Minister …
the piercing cry
of a hawk
– Ian Willey
denim jacket
the peace sign patch
unraveling
– Sharon Ferrante
truce —
amidst the rubble
a cat grooms itself
– Paul Callus
on the back of my eyelids
the fireworks
the fireworks make
– Janet Ruth
caught in a heavy rain
the street name
a wildflower
– Gary Hotham
crack of dawn
not mine
the kitchen sounds
– Ella Aboutboul
winter morning
the scarecrow speaks
with a robin’s voice
– Jacek Margolak
it strikes the mountain
first and last
longest day
– Joshua St. Claire
new calendar
birthday reminders —
some stay behind
– Mary Oishi
no matter the hue
of the greeting cards you send
Valentines are read
– John H. Dromey
new year’s day
i text the one
still living
– Roberta Beary
end of the season
geese huddling
on the pitcher’s mound
– Sharon Martina
longest night —
a quarter moon
is not enough
– Marie Derley
boxed away
last year’s angel
folded in what ifs
– Joanna Ashwell
back in town
after the false pregnancy
perseids
– Hifsa Ashraf
Chiyo-ni haiku
as part of his eulogy
snow begins to fall
– Johnnie Johnson Hafernik
blue moon
my second chance
not wasted
– Pat Davis
Haiga – Melanie Alberts
