Haiku Published in Hard-Copy Journals

Acorn

a blanket of wet spring snow ~
one more light bulb
expires
Fall 1998, Vol. I, No. 1

Frogpond

boiling maple syrup
wood smoke fading
into evening fog
2009, Vol. XXXII, No. 2
dawning -
a herd of beeves
spreads the pasture
picking at the peeling birch -
recalling one regret
after another
2009, Vol. XXXII, No. 1
half light
fat flakes of snow
melting into the birch
2008, Vol. XXXI, No. 3
warm spring breeze
in the child's arms
a child
1998, Vol. XXI, No. 2
january thaw
the narrow path
fading away
1997, Vol. XX, No. 3

The Heron's Nest

circling her grave
a bitter wind
shifts the family
March 2010, Vol. XII, No. 1
beach cabanas
flapping in the breeze
the sound of idle chatter
September 2009, Vol. XI, No. 3
breaking the ice
I tell the cattle
it is almost spring
June 2009, Vol. XI, No. 2
his ashes
turning into the current
the turtle's ears
March 2009, Vol. XI, No. 1
dusk
the last calf
settles into the herd
December 2008, Vol. X, No. 4
billowing clouds
trailing the tractor
windrows of hay
September 2008, Vol. X, No. 3
estate sale
her paint-by-number Christ
half finished
June 2008, Vol. X, No. 2

Modern Haiku

through
the prison bars
windrows of hay
daybreak moon
I blow a wisp of steam
from the coffee
Fall 2009, Vol. 40, No. 3
after the divorce
letting the stay-in cats
out
killing time
I straighten up
his hospice room
Winter 2009, Vol. 40, No. 1
farm auction
a life’s work
from noon to five
too weak for words
darkness fills
his open mouth
automation trade show –
attendees mindlessly
queuing up
Summer 2008, Vol. 39, No. 2
a pair of sandhill cranes
settling on the marsh
first flakes of snow
thanksgiving grace ~
cranberries holding
the shape of a can
first frost
a rosebud
in cut glass
December fog ~
picking the reddest apple
from a vendor's cart
Summer 1999, Vol. XXX, No. 2
sixteen candles
with one breath ~
recalling her birth
Winter 1999, Vol. XXX, No. 1
crowded knickknack shelf ~
a white porcelain buddha
laughs
softening snow ~
a patch of soggy ground
two doves wide
cocking an ear ~
the red-tailed hawk
grips a rusting stake
between flakes
of gently falling snow ~
the far end of a frozen lake
first light -
crocus shoots
casting shadows
first spring day ~
a sweater swings
from the picket fence
metal pole building
hard-edged shadows
where the old barn stood
Fall 1998, Vol. XXIX, No. 3
a friend's whisper ~
carelessly adding sugar
to hot coffee
nary a ripple ~
still the sailboats
clank . . .clank –clank
overripe grapes ~
through the darkness
the shape of raccoon eyes
tasting a slice of melon~
the truck farmer's
anxious smile
a spot of warmth
lingering in the wood
where the peach pie cooled
deer heads
lining the knotty pine bar -
a hunter's stare
summer's last light ~
dragonflies gripping
the stone barn
daybreak
beyond the stubbled field
cooling tractors ting
hanging storm windows -
a trapped spider traverses
my dull reflection
abandoned farm ~
the scent of sweet grass
rising through the fallen porch
mid-winter fog ~
a row of paling trees
mark the open stream
Winter 1998, Vol. XXIX, No. 2
lottery tickets
falling from her purse -
and condoms
with each prick~
cutting further
into the thorny vines
last light~
a clutter of starlings
filling the fountain
last shovel of corn ~
warm spring sun
filtering through the slats
up and down
the passion vine -
zebra butterfly eggs
april fifteenth
filling in
the blanks
water lilies
barely breaking through
the stagnant pond
the craning junco~
drinking a drop of rain
from the vine
warm spring day
a transient's leaves his pack
unattended in the park
budding grape vines
passing through the arbor
a child's whisper
her hand on his back
gently caressing
the tattoo dragon
a shift in the wind
the faint squeal of pigs
heading to slaughter
Fall 1997, Vol. XXVIII, No. 3
jars and jars of honey
lining the market stand -
warm autumn sun
the full moon's light
spreading across the lake
a film of ice
driving through
the iron bridge
wind blown snow
rusting trestle -
standing motionless
on the frozen river
a red-tailed hawk
in pursuit
frigid winds
school forest -
the aging pines
still standing in rows
fresh-cut peonies
carlessly she flicks off
the tiny ant
wiping away the film
on the window's wavy glass
father's reflection
world war II scrapbook
faces of young boys
huddled together
waking from
a restless sleep -
the smell of spring
Summer 1997, Vol. XXVIII, No. 2
through the rear view mirror
my kids
enter school
waiting for absolution
wrists wrapped
with rosary beads
hot summer breeze
through the screens
all the neighbors business
lost in years
of an oak's gnarled bark
nameless lovers
job interviewee
taken to lunch
between words tiny bites
autumn's first frost
stretching the open field
white chrysanthemums
edging closer
to the monkey cage -
my son tightens his grip
Winter 1997, Vol. XXVIII, No. 1
turning forty
again I confront
my adolescent boy
Winter 1996, Vol. XXVII, No. 1
my son's
small hands
shaping the bonsai
Fall 1994, Vol. XXV, No. 3
self defense class
everyone
facing the mirror
airline Lunch
more
turbulence
Fall 1993, Vol. XXIV, No. 3
discovering
an old foundation
whiffs of sweetgrass
after the kill -
the hunter against an oak
scratching his back
Winter 1993, Vol. XXIV, No. 1
crescent moon
effigy mounds
casting shadows
Fall 1992, Vol. XXIII, No. 3
Dow Jones summary
erratic
heartbeat
Summer 1992, Vol. XXIII, No. 2
funeral procession
his old friends
dutifully follow along
Winter 1992, Vol. XXIII, No. 1
twilight
the tea bag
stains the water
Summer 1991, Vol. XXII, No. 2
with failing eyes
Dad strains to see
his gangrenous toes
Summer 1990, Vol. XXI, No. 2
racists
waving
flags
Fall 1989, Vol. XX, No. 3
dad ponders the amputation
ashes lengthen
on the cigarette
antique toy show
the baby's hand
reaches out
Winter 1989, Vol. XX, No. 1
propped on his shovel
my neighbor recalls the past
the snowstorm strengthens
Summer 1988, Vol. XIX, No. 2
son rises
superheros break
the predawn silence
Winter 1988, Vol. XIX, No. 1
frantically brushing
the air with roses
sunset presses the peddler
Fall 1987, Vol. XVIII, No. 3
little boxes
of travel soap
thoughts of my children
Summer 1987, Vol. XVIII, No. 2
powerlines
stretch across cornfields
fireflies flicker
Winter 1987, Vol. XVIII, No. 1
my shadow on
the door -
both children asleep
dairy farms lit
by security lights
headlights pointed home
Fall 1986, Vol. XVII, No. 3

People’s Poetry Letter

february's full moon
inches above
the mist
broken cattails ~
clustered flakes of snow
settle into the marsh
colored sidewalk chalk ~
colossal daffodils
dwarf the sun
Fall/Winter 1998/1999, Vol. 5, No. 1
sleepless night. . . again
tossing pieces of driftwood
back into the sea
Summer/Fall 1998, Vol. 4, No. 3