Featured Poet – Carolyn Hall
stump speech —
this black and white butterfly
in none of the field guides
spilt milk
spreading along the grout lines
morning chill
twilight
the poultry truck returns
with empty cages
slave cemetery —
the tug of the current
on willow fronds
dogwood blossoms
Mom’s ashes
lighter than expected
Carolyn Hall, author of five award-winning books of haiku, began writing in 1999. She was formerly editor of Acorn, a journal of contemporary haiku, and she currently edits Mariposa, the journal of the Haiku Poets of Northern California. Her most recent book, Cricket Dusk, published by Red Moon Press in 2020, was awarded Second Place in the HSA Merit Book Awards.
insomnia
Chopin’s Nocturne
colours the moon
– Veronika Zora
one person
snuffing out one candle —
winter isolation
– Ruth Holzer
twilight …
the blue stars of borage
first to go
– Lorin Ford
sonoran night —
all alone
in this milky way
– Ryland Shengzhi Li
twilight
ravens become
the shadows
– Bryan Rickert
Memorial Day —
the white marble
of her scars
– Mark Forrester
sobriety
the false glitter
of the moon
– Rp Verlaine
funeral day
just the sadness
of cut flowers
– Mona Bedi
i say her name
in the past tense
winter rose
– Joan Chaput
behind bars
the dove’s song
filled with mourning
– Marilyn Ashbaugh
skipping a beat
my heart gets ahead
of itself
– Cynthia Anderson
balloon
when will you pop
the question
– Christine Eales
spring peepers
in the kettle ponds
pocked moon
– Dave Russo
the sun’s light
8.3 minutes to get here
why not purple shoes
– Peter Newton
touching
her big tummy
winter sea
– Maria Concetta Conti
alone
with Orion
night whispers
– Janice Doppler
starlight
in my sister’s laugh
my favourite aunt
– Meg Arnot
new moon …
she speaks a secret
I never knew
– David He
full moon
lightening the fruits garden
a mother-daughter talk
– Nadejda Kostadinova
planetarium
we have yet to resolve
the dark matter
– John Hawkhead
snow over snow
dad hardly remembers
recent events
– Mirela Brăilean
feeling
into breath
faint stars
– Joanna Ashwell
wheelchair
the fading marks
of hopscotch
– Vandana Parashar
crashing waves
a year of work
ebbs away
– Agnes Eva Savich
first frost
black-eyed susans
down to their eyes
– Bryan Rickert
first spring mowing
dandelion puffs
ride along
– Christa Pandey
day’s end
a coloured cloud
floats away
– Owen Bullock
reassuring
bounce of a hammock
island breeze
– Roberta Beach Jacobson
spring sale –
with empty pockets
I go flower viewing
– Meera Rehm
spring mist
a rainbow
of annuals
– Carolyn Hall
where the rooks gather
in wind-tumbled clouds
her threat to leave me
– John Hawkhead
clustered juniper berries
we only have
one moon
– Tanya McDonald
Betelgeuse
you are always
there for me
– Marilyn Fleming
telephone cables
the cross purposes
of our conversation
– Madhuri Pillai
new therapist
he asks me if I …
feel his presence
– Hifsa Ashraf
cod cheeks —
the wind outside
billows
– Mark Forrester
leaves in the breeze
finally I learn
to let go
– Arvinder Kaur
wind storm
the neighbors exchanging
recycle bins
– Joshua St. Claire
leaving the ICU
everyone’s breath
on their own
– Gary Hotham
pomegranates
sway in the branches …
my hand in yours
– Daniela Misso
cracklespeak
curls of whittled cherry wood
feed grandpa’s fire
– Jo Balistreri
bowing under birches
I paddle through
a prayer
– Pat Davis
reading his poems scattered deer in the forest
– Jim Kacian
rainfall on snow …
an argument fades
into sparrow song
– Nicholas Klacsanzky
Zen debate
nobody
wins
– Michael Henry Lee
fractured light
a willow in new leaf
catches the moon
– Jo Balistreri
late night stars —
the ash glaze sparkles
on a Shigaraki Jar
– Hifsa Ashraf
bright moon
infinite ensō bob
along the inlet
– Lorin Ford
stars pulsing in ambient light my death poem
– Shloka Shankar
moonbeams
blanketing the field
winter silence
– Janice Doppler
autumn rain
rewinding
the death scene
– Bryan Rickert
new year’s shrine
offertory box
two more than last year
– Keiko Izawa
her engraved name
behind the scent
of easter lilies
– Richard L. Matta
unseasonal rain …
frangipani blossoms
cover the hearse
– Neena Singh
fallen cairn
mountain goats grazing
on clouds
– Debbie Strange
winter solstice
a double-yolker
in the bowl
– Laurie D. Morrissey
the weight
of a turtle shell . . .
home mortgage
– Meera Rehm
french bistro’s
sagging double door …
another birthday
– Keiko Izawa
grandma’s thick waist
holding up
the family tree
– Barrie Levine
winter path …
a cow puffs forward
its breath
– David He
immigration counter —
he has nothing to declare
except his poverty
– Ram Chandran
SCOTUS
weight watchers
recalibrate the scales
– Caroline Giles Banks
at dawn she washes dishes
at dusk she washes dishes
the new bride
– Sonam Chhoki
urban sprawl
another tent rising
in the underpass
– Helen Ogden
kintsugi —
trying to fix
our old planet
– Cristina Povero
his last present the pan´s lifelong guarantee
– Deborah Karl-Brandt
your name in frost under my fingernail
– Tanya McDonald
a desert sunset riding out the last of the blues
– cain gwynne
tumbleweed
between him and her
the ex
– Ravi Kiran
baby’s breath …
she tells a white lie
with fingers crossed
– Nika
her point of view …
counting and recounting
autumn leaves
– Deborah Karl-Brandt
another layer
of meaning
turkey tail fungus
– Kristen Lindquist
candles in a crematory wondering where the wax goes
– cain gwynne
library days
books and I sharing
an umbrella
– Ash Evan Lippert
you don’t know
the half of it
dark side of the moon
– Joan Chaput
winter birds
a hint of blue
in the grays
– Brad Bennett
on the lake surface
the water bug
skims the evening sky
– Michael Battisto
to-do list
a swarm of bees
buzzing at a distance
– Hifsa Ashraf
winter wheat
all the curves and angles
of a heron’s neck
– Polona Oblak
new year’s morning
the woodpecker
first to knock
– Arvinder Kaur
space exploration —
a baby
just learning to crawl
– Angela Terry
app-less
picking
apples
– Laurie D. Morrissey
winter storm
the witch’s cottage
covered in meringue
– David Watts
tempted
to say more
society garlic
– Michael Henry Lee
garden beginnings
in a seed tray
chin hair
– Deborah P Kolodji
solstice
the cold front
of me
– John Stevenson
snowy day …
only color in the landscape
a stop sign
– Nancy Brady
potted plant
the lonely child looks
for sunshine
– Mallika Chari
winter morning
rain rides
the last leaves
– Frank Hooven
suncups
around each stone
prairie crocus
– Debbie Strange
a robin’s song
flows through our silence
childhood river
– Chen-ou Liu
we decide
not to talk about it —
first frost
– Joseph P. Wechselberger
winter elevator —
ignoring each other
we huddle
– Michael Battisto
distant train
a spring wind
takes your words away
– Tony Williams
phone rings …
I say goodbye
to a quiet day
– C. Jean Downer
whistling
just to fill the silence
lockdown morning
– Mark Miller
winter rain …
the intermittent hum
of a light bulb
– Shloka Shankar
’round midnight
the sound of
vinyl scratching
– Vladislav Hristov
evening cool
a bottle clunks
in the recycling bin
– Jennifer Hambrick
later in the meeting
rain stronger than
the agenda
– Gary Hotham
feeling the burn year of the tiger balm
– Michael Henry Lee
snowlit dusk
the mirror admires
my earrings
– Richa Sharma
easter breakfast
uncle swigs beer to wash down
deviled eggs
– Tyson West
almost flying
with my daughter —
flightaware.com
– Daya Bhat
hospital room
the butterfly tattooed
on my arm
– Carmela Marino
the long wait for
his return home …
winter solstice
– Sangita Kalarickal
hotel check-in
sparrows
in the bee balm
– Kelly Sauvage
empty nest weekend
my wife nestles further
into the sheets
– Chen-ou Liu
cabin fever
dry skin
itching to get out
– David Kehe
withered grass
a leftover sign
from the estate sale
– Deborah P Kolodji
spring melt
the snowman’s long journey
back to the sea
– William Keckler
winter lull
the seeming movement
of still clouds
– Srinivas S
flow tide …
the forward motion
of sunlight
– Angela Terry
a rock
splits the stream
spring equinox
– Brad Bennett
long covid
so much longer now
path to the cliff shrine
– Sonam Chhoki
ghislaine’s pampered
vizslas wonder what
birds are for
– Tyson West
i gulp
a crescent moon …
summer melon
– Amrutha Prabhu
misremembering
the fairy tale
cygnets lost in mist
– Kristen Lindquist
starry night
counting the whiteheads
on my cheeks
– Nicholas Klacsanzky
having my future read
I don’t quite believe
what I believe
– Jim Kacian
rain continues
from one topic
to another
– John Stevenson
empty cocoon
mum is moved
to palliative care
– Louise Hopewell
vernal equinox
an imbalance
of sleep
– Annie Bachini
chalk dust
on my fingers
day moon
– Barrie Levine
Ides of March
snowmelt down the rainspout
floods the alley
– chad henry
I.C.U. —
the child opens
her eyes
– Kevin Valentine
breathing
in and out …
wildflowers
– Neena Singh
wind —
moonlight
on a slope
– Vincenzo Adamo
we begin again day moon
– Hemapriya Chellappan
your hand in mine —
the fullness
of tonight’s sky
– Michael Dylan Welch
Image by Ryan Reed Smith, Haiku by Richard L. Matta
