one-line haiku

 Welcome to the June 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.


This month there is no particular theme. Each poem is just one line long (or even a single word!)  . . .  revealing meaning and depth in a deceptively simple form.


Contributing poets are from Australia, Brazil, Canada, China, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, Malta, Poland, Romania, Singapore, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and the United States



pond’s ripple a koi’s breath
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

the sweetness of well water
    ai li

so many Alans clumped in the school lunch line
    Alan Bern

our packages delivered next door daily with a smile
    Alan Bern

fish tank the squared-off edge of leylandii
    Alan Peat

family of mice the night train briefly ruffles the snow
    Alan Summers

wind whisper the night shifts to owls
    Alan Summers

the recluse brings in another stray
    Alexis Rotella

smoke from the chimney scribbles across the sky
    Angela Giordano

too many words my dry throat
    Angela Giordano

on the sandcastle a lollipop
    Angiola Inglese

a slight smile in the corner of her mouth the wall still stands
    Ann Carter

among the clutter of the junk drawer dad’s old watch
    Barbara Sabol

sensory overload i count rotations of a ceiling fan
    Barbara Tate Sayre

in plain sight an artist paints the north wind
    Barbara Tate Sayre

collateral damage a felled tree’s shadow
    Barrie Levine

nightfall the last crossword clue
    Blue Waters

ice the riverbanks finally meet
    Brad Bennett

breaking my fall a haiku moment
    Brad Bennett

power failure still flicking light switches
    Bryan D. Cook

blackout the glow of grandma’s oil lamps
    Bryan D. Cook

off the beaten path the best poems
    Bryan Rickert

aging a rose falls apart on the counter top
    C. Robin Janning

dozing until the tea cools ignoring the news
    C. Robin Janning

steam train whistles midnight mourning
    Carol Judkins

raven on my shoulder first tattoo
    Carole MacRury

a little of you in me narcissus
    Carole MacRury

again but with more feeling spring breeze
    Caroline Skanne

forgetting to remember blue butterflies
    Caroline Skanne

the resonance of the bell deep inside
    Charles Trumbull

interstellar flight endless night
    Chen Xiaoou

misty lake     drifting between loon calls
    Chen-ou Liu

silence between us the phone lines sagging with May snow
    Chen-ou Liu

the waiter’s perfumed wipes extra tips
    Christina Chin

calligraphy practice on the blank squares new calendar
    Christina Chin

squirrel park      more squirrels than trees
    Christina Sng

honeysuckle pruning I dream again
    Christine L. Villa

tuning up bagpipes in a closed room
    Christine Wenk-Harrison

translating the parrot’s new rant unpronounceable
    Christine Wenk-Harrison

writing in bursts the rain
    Claire Vogel Camargo

meteor gone before i can say it
    Debbie Strange

in every boulder crevice a different green
    Deborah Burke Henderson

crow caw meditation broken
    Deborah P Kolodji

no moon tonight i walk alone
    Devoshruti Mandal

how     to hold     nothing
    Donna Fleischer

filled to the brim with emptiness origami cup
    Elena Malec

deep meditation a fly fell asleep on my forehead
    Elena Malec

blackbird’s song unfolding an old map inside me
    Florin C. Ciobica

ants forget wildflowers remember
    Frank Muller

what of the dust storm butterfly
    Geethanjali Rajan

stepping into the unknown     a rainbow
    Geethanjali Rajan

cutting an avocado the way we compromise
    Geoff Pope

my mirror is up to its old tricks
    Jack Goldman

mother’s grave the red roses she never liked
    Jackie Chou

beyond my fence a fawn watching me watching red apples
    Jill Lange

rosemary for remembrance and spaghetti sauce
    Jim Mazza

daily yoga practice weeding the garden
    Jim Mazza

heavy fog     mountains disappear
    Joan Leotta

windswept our words becoming tide
    Joanna Ashwell

rainfall skimming along with the dragonfly
    Joanna Ashwell

a strand of her hair curled on my pillow crescent moon
    Joe Sebastian

dawn greets me with questions
    Joel Savishinsky

footprints on the “no trespassing” sign
    John J. Dunphy

ginkgo leaves my niece parting her doll’s hair
    Joshua St. Claire

moose in the meadow     the cow watches
    Karla Linn Merrifield

labyrinth now I remember the night I was born
    Kath Abela Wilson

I dream my dead mother says she loves my latest poem
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

within each morning glory its own dance
    kris moon

drum beats the mountain echoes boomerang
    Lakshmi Iyer

rain under my collar the things i forgot
    Laurinda Lind

your birthday i miss you we no longer speak
    Laurinda Lind

all the glass not found on the beach      cataracts
    Lorraine A Padden

noon shadow only my feet and the cat
    Lucia Cardillo

sinking into piped music delayed flight
    Madhuri Pillai

frost the weight i didn’t know i was carrying
    Marcie Wessels

invitation to write one-line haiku     bag of potato chips
    Margaret Fisher Squires

a smidge of this a dash of that used cookbook
    Margaret Walker

little by little mayflies zigzagzigging
    Marianne Paul

winter soup the swoop and dip of spoons
    Marietta McGregor

river’s edge all ducklings in a row
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

praying mantis looking the other way
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

lucid dreaming wild-eyed pansies glancing back and forth
    Mary Kendall

tangy lemon tart the child I was
    Maya Daneva

a car alarm     my raspy breath     flowers for your grave
    Michael Flanagan

love all his tennis whites as immaculate as ever
    Michael Gallagher

done meditating the Buddha statue winks
    Michael G. Smith

beachcombing every shell inhabited
    Mimi Foyle

tulips my heart opens first
    Mirela Brailean

love letters the different smell of each lie
    Mirela Brailean

a pile of stones     black teacups mended with gold epoxy
    Miriam Sagan

a peacock’s relentless cry your long absence
    Neena Singh

hummingbird in the mist seen unseen seen
    Neena Singh

mountaintop almost there almost there
    Pat Davis

feathers fly fresh seed in the feeder
    Paul Beech

another rejection a soap bubble pops
    Paul Callus

his touch my throat tightens
    Pris Campbell

orange blossoms the taste of morning drizzle
    Richard L. Matta

aloha plumeria the scent of her blouse
    Richard L. Matta

closing in on 68 the field mouse I am
    Robert Epstein

interpreter signs my pause
    Roberta Beach Jacobson

s      n      a      i      l
    Roberta Beach Jacobson

sweet memory my favorite doll belonged to my sister
    Rosa Clement

a question posed between night-blooming jasmine
    Seretta Martin

in the ocean starfish in starlight
    Seretta Martin

happy hour drinks at the birdbath
    Susan Burch

her tiny fingers trace the soft blue veins of grandma’s hand
    Teresa Yatsko

clear morning slipping on my rose quartz bracelet
    Theresa A. Cancro

oh how easily i soak up the folds of a primrose
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

intimacy like the way freesia exhales
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

dried spearmint steeping tea new mint greens a patch nearby
    Tina Wright

oh no the last short story so i read it real slow
    Tina Wright

the news my need to just keep walking
    Tom Clausen

puddle portal where does it all go
    Tom Clausen

spring cleaning a violet in mother’s old herbarium
    Vibeke Laier

after funeral moon fills the empty mirror
    Vibeke Laier

teacher’s funeral between loved ones the worst student
    Wieslaw Karlinski

snow melt fills the creek skipping stones
    Wilda Morris

somewhere in the catskill mountains a tree i once loved
    Zee Zahava

drinkable haiku

Welcome to the May 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

The theme for this month’s collection is “drinkable haiku.”

Contributing poets are from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, Pakistan, Philippines, Poland, Romania, Singapore, the United Kingdom, and the United States



farmwork done
drinking palm wine amid
the bustle of late bees
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

collecting dewdrops
for grandmother’s tea
a chinese fable
    ai li

even toddlers
suck on cooled blueberry juice
now on lips and tongue
    Alan Bern

who knows
how many drinks
two moons
    Alan Peat

cherry brandy hangover the spring in my step
    Alan Summers

hot tea in a cold cup winter
    Alexis Rotella

juice stand —
the only nature spot
at the mall
    Ana Drobot

apple juice —
I look out the window
to search for the moon
    Angiola Inglese

soda pop
a toddler giggles
at the bubbles
    Barbara Kaufmann

he flirts
over coffee —
the empty sugar bowl
    Barbara Sabol

sun tea
the time it takes
to kiss you
    Barrie Levine

into an old tin cup
a pristine trickle
of pineland water
    Bill Waters

monsoon rains
a drop of honey
in the ginger tea
    Billy Antonio

mom’s grin as i
gulp her “Pepsi” —
yuck! black coffee
    Blue Waters

draining the dregs
of yesterday’s coffee
writer’s block
    Bryan Cook

rum bottle
nearing the end
his long story
    Bryan Rickert

this green cup filled with
cocoa and three hot spices
smoothing out the day
    C. Robin Janning

strawberry wine —
the girl I was
the woman I am
    Carole MacRury

rings from our beer glasses        nothing left to say
    Charles Trumbull

the end
of the old monk’s chanting
tea time for one
    Chen-ou Liu

granadilla
in iced fruit juice
rustling palm
    Christina Chin

emerging
from my oolong tea
old ghosts
    Christina Sng

chrysanthemum tea
slowly sipping
the sunlight
    Christine L. Villa

the bright side
a chocolate milk shake
after the dentist
    Claire Vogel Camargo

we harvest
a chunk of chaga for tea . . .
vacant bear den
    Debbie Strange

bourbon - sugar - bitters
grandpa says his old-fashioned
beats the heat
    Deborah Burke Henderson

mimosas
on the front porch swing
orange blossoms
    Deborah P Kolodji

rose water drink
getting younger
with every cup
    Elena Malec

chilly night
the moon’s tremor
in my tea
    Florin C. Ciobica

wedding anniversary
a smoothie blended
with honeysuckle
    Geoff Pope

end of Ramadan
adding more ice
to the red sharbat
    Hifsa Ashraf

parting ways
the last sweet taste
of plum wine
    Jackie Chou

pandemic to endemic
a champagne toast
to making it through
    Jay Friedenberg

growing up . . .
with dill pickles
and Coca-Cola
    Jill Lange

wine glass in hand
a familiar face at the bar
oops, that’s a mirror
    Jim Mazza

summer picnic
lips sticky
with cherry kool-aid
    Jo Balistreri

my dad’s drugstore
syrup in soda water —
so many flavors!
    Joan Leotta

a secret spilled
stirring the stock
sharing a spoon
    Joanna Ashwell

summer ritual
mango juice down my elbow
onto my t-shirt
    Joe Sebastian

in less worried times
a long-handled bamboo cup
water from the shrine
    Joel Savishinsky

the poet’s reading
more passionate after
his third espresso
    John J. Dunphy

by the light of the salt lamp —
drops of red wine
on grandmother’s tablecloth
    Julia Guzman

cinnamon protein shakes
my kids refuse to drink . . .
the breakfasts of mothers
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

mulled wine thinking it over
    Karen Harvey

lip to lip
our shared
frappuccino
    Kath Abela Wilson

one strong rum cocktail
one daughter, one Scrabble game
Mother’s Day love fest
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

pomegranate juice
my preference
over wine
    kris moon

waterfront bar
choosing a cocktail
made with cucumbers
    Kristen Lindquist

watermelon sky
pink ice cubes rattling
in the bubbles
    Lakshmi Iyer

now i’m here
in my body again
ginger brandy
    Laurinda Lind

firewater
we toast
the Yosemite sunset
    Lorraine A Padden

the cake laced with brandy her louder than usual singalong voice
    Madhuri Pillai

the only time
dad had a mustache
root beer float
    Marcie Wessels

sippin’ southern comfort
childhood cure
for the croup
    Margaret Walker

drive-thru poetry
iced toasted vanilla oat
shaken espresso
    Marianne Paul

Aperol spritz
the way her hair
traps a sunbeam
    Marietta McGregor

red dust tang
sharing the drover’s
waterbag
    Marilyn Humbert

a county fair
my homemade cider
loses its fizz
    Marta Chocilowska

swirling the bitter
remnant of one last pint
remembering you
    Michael Flanagan

toothache
scent of cloves
and whiskey
    Michael Gallagher

drinking from the same stream
as the grizzly bear
I put on my brave face
    Michael G. Smith

traveling days . . .
I sip water
from a fresh coconut
    Milan Rajkumar

made by a neighbor
to celebrate our son’s birth
home-brewed ginger beer
    Mimi Foyle

hummingbirds —
my niece asks for
a drinking straw
    Mirela Brailean

bitter-sweet drink
sun-kissed kumquats
quench my thirst
    Neena Singh

daddy’s wink
a teaspoon of wine
in my Kool-Aid
    Pat Davis

recovering now —
a steaming mug
of mum’s beef-tea
    Paul Beech

first business venture lemonade TEN CENTS
    Pris Campbell

our morning tea
the nettles infused
with silence
    Richard L. Matta

along the creek
in one big gulp
my favorite mountain
    Robert Epstein

heading south tea getting sweeter
    Roberta Beach Jacobson

drink of water
from the garden hose
work half done
    Ron Scully

coffee shop
I pay for a heart
in my cappuccino
    Rosa Clement

lamp low
over melted cheese and wine
your language on my tongue
    Ruth Yarrow

the morning after
three bloody marys open
six heavy eyelids
    Stacey Murphy

(whiskey) things between us (sour)
    Susan Burch

sitting on my heels
in the Japanese inn
a cup of sake
    Theresa A. Cancro

fruit punch gatorade
only tastes good when i am
dehydrated bad
    Tina Wright

in training
I try another
non-alcoholic beer
    Tom Clausen

seems like yesterday
the kitten drinking milk
in my childhood garden
    Vibeke Laier

milky way
it stopped for a moment
in my glass of tea
    Wieslaw Karlinski

hot cocoa
with marshmallows —
the children wishing for snow
    Wilda Morris

farmer’s market tonic
ginger, cider, cayenne —
I drink from a spoon
    Yvonne Fisher

giggling with cousins
ginger ale poured into
the orange juice
    Zee Zahava

haiku happiness

Welcome to the April 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

This month’s collection focuses on Things That Make Us Happy … small things, major things, long ago memories, and current moments.

Contributing poets are from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, China, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, Malta, New Zealand, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, Spain, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and the United States


Wishing you a sense of peace and happiness as you read the following haiku . . . .



lakeside
breaking bread
with fishes
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

i have breath this morning
    ai li

at the cafe table
a woman and a small girl
mouth I LOVE YOU
    Alan Bern

a mayfly
i breathe in the sky
for my moment
    Alan Peat

adjusting the reading lamp buried in the snow forests of Narnia
    Alan Summers

aunt’s lipstick print
on my cheek
I wear it to school
    Alexis Rotella

under a tree
with birdsong
and a good book
    Angela Giordano

clear sky beyond the roses the moon
    Angiola Inglese

warm sun . . . i circle the old pear tree
    Ann Carter

simple life
the vase is content
without flowers
    Barbara Sabol

sabbath candles
my mother’s hands
gathering gold
    Barrie Levine

as soon as the pond ice melts . . . peepers
    Blue Waters

beach day
visiting the four corners
of my towel
    Brad Bennett

beachcombing
the sudden glint
of ruby sea glass
    Bryan D. Cook

birthday cake
the slice I eat
when everyone’s gone
    Bryan Rickert

after breakfast
pairing this rock and that plant
time passes quickly
    C. Robin Janning

party game —
popping
bubble wrap
    Carol Judkins

crayons
waxy smell of a new
box of colors
    Carole Johnston

alone time —
music replaces
the day’s noise
    Carole MacRury

pounding heart
I land at the airport
of her city
    Chen Xiaoou

summer breeze
my daughter dances to the rhythm
of rainbow bubbles
    Chen-ou Liu

spring hammock
baby and I play
peekaboo
    Christina Chin

great sky dreams on birds’ wings
    Christina Martin

duvet
feeling safe
again
    Christina Sng

the space
between you and me . . .
warmth of a dog
    Christine L. Villa

whistling winds
our howls of laughter
telling jokes
    Claire Vogel Camargo

outdoor cinema —
for a moment the flash
of a shooting star
    Dan Iulian

sand furrows
new guitar strings imprint
my fingertips
    Debbie Strange

slicing the apple
at its equator . . .
stargazing
    Deborah Burke Henderson

campfire
after the hayride
marshmallows
    Deborah P Kolodji

sharing a straw
in a bottle of Boom Boom Lemon
dream of Kyoto
    Donna Fleischer

ocean cliff —
fastened to the fence
lovers’ locks
    Elena Calvo

night fishing
listening to the music
of the Milky Way
    Florin C. Ciobica

deep in the forest
surrounded by stillness
only a heartbeat
    Frank Muller

catching the sun
the brilliant green
of a jewel bug
    Geethanjali Rajan

89th birthday
my mom’s smile
when I walk in
    Geoff Pope

twilight stroll . . .
exchanging smiles
the Ramadan moon and I
    Hifsa Ashraf

morning cocoa
the sweet taste of
melting marshmallows
    Jackie Chou

distant thunder —
bee balm trembling
in the breeze
    Janice Doppler

final ascent
a sunrise reward
from the mountain’s top
    Jay Friedenberg

time in a hammock watching the garden grow
    Jill Lange

unknown phone number
probably a scam call —
no, a long-lost friend
    Jim Mazza

my husband walks by
pausing to give
my shoulder a light caress
    Joan Leotta

easing myself
inside a groove
of snow-drift stars
    Joanna Ashwell

high desert fossils
asleep in ancient sea beds
I walk with oysters
    Joel Savishinsky

sticky coins
I get change at
a child’s lemonade stand
    John J. Dunphy

lunch on the patio
a cicada sings
the entire time
    Jorge Alberto Giallorenzi

the slow movement
of clouds . . .
poppy fields
    Julia Guzman

almost to South Dakota —
the excitement
of a blue barn
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

one night
on the Gulf of Aqaba
the softest kiss
    Karla Linn Merrifield

how jacarandas know
it’s jolly well time
to paint the world purple
    Kath Abela Wilson

dune’s grassy hillocks
a few sea oats and my hands
scribbling at sunset
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

short day        long nap
this old woman and
her old cat
    kris moon

meteor shower
the night air thick
with wishes
    Kristen Lindquist

high summer
all the raw mangoes
under our beds
    Lakshmi Iyer

deep boom the ice lets go of the lake
    Laurinda Lind

watermelon seeds
my son’s invention
of orbital patterns
    Lorraine A Padden

the path to the country house . . . roses
    Lucia Cardillo

after the heat
the relief . . .
petrichor
    Madhuri Pillai

temporary lodging
sleeping with a pillow
from home    
    Marcie Wessels

half asleep my feet buried in the sand
    Margaret Walker

sunshower
the kitchen window
open to freesias
    Marietta McGregor

spring snow
baking bread
for the smell of it
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

at midnight
the grandkids tell me
each star’s name
    Marilyn Humbert

back home
all the roadside puddles
explored
    Marta Chocilowska

a bit unkempt
this cottage garden
my inner life
    Mary Kendall

lemon blossom
in my tea cup . . .
our first breakfast outdoors
    Maya Daneva

the instructor asks
why are you here . . . I answer
tai chi makes me happy
    Michael Flanagan

blazing sun
my father’s shadow
for shelter
    Michael Gallagher

a walk in the woods
we toast her
first published poem
    Michael G. Smith

homecoming —
gulmohar flowers greet me
at the village gate
    Milan Rajkumar

laughing together
catching up on adventures
best friend on the phone
    Mimi Foyle

my open notebook
the gentle breeze
brings a few petals
    Mirela Brailean

I’d steal it
if I could — this view
of plum blossoms
    Miriam Sagan

sharing breakfast
with a squirrel
rock doves coo
    Neena Singh

shell collection
re-arranging
summers
    Pat Davis

the estuary below
glints in the sun —
I read Basho
    Paul Beech

running commentary —
sitting on my broad shoulders
my granddaughter
    Paul Callus

sunrise
the second sunflower
in bloom next door
    Pris Campbell

monarchs
chasing monarchs chasing
kids playing tag
    Richard Matta

morning hike
becoming part of
the desert
    Roberta Beach Jacobson

sunny day
a wasp tastes
everyone’s beer
    Rosa Clement

sunrise through mist
my nose pulls lemon sweetness
from the yellow iris
    Ruth Yarrow

lemon sorbet
summer at the tip
of my tongue
    Sherry Grant

sharing
my good news
trumpet daffodil
    Susan Burch

dad plants flowers
i pat down the earth
tucking them in
    Teresa Bakota Yatsko

bedroom oasis . . .
playing finger cymbals
by candlelight
    Theresa A. Cancro

watching a swamp muskrat
sharpen her teeth on a stick
before eating
    Tina Wright

fedoras cool again taking selfies
    Tom Bierovic

my playlist . . .
every one of the thousand
songs on shuffle
    Tom Clausen

rough seas
you anchor
me
    Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

between
heaven and earth
the smell of sunflowers
    Vibeke Laier

cousin reunion
I unearth
new old family secrets
    Wilda Morris

safely home
a cup of tea . . .
this is my life now
    Yvonne Fisher

jumping waves
laughing so hard
i swallow the ocean
    Zee Zahava

a haiku celebration of women and girls

 Welcome to the March 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal


Contributing poets are from Australia, Canada, Denmark, Ecuador, India, Italy, Malaysia, Malta, New Zealand, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, Spain, the United Kingdom, and the United States



mother staying up
all night
when i was ill
    ai li

around my wife a bright corona of burnt orange sunset
    Alan Bern

grey hair and tie dye
fending off the present
with her fondue fork
    Alan Peat

in dialect
grandma speaks to
her peonies
    Alexis Rotella

a few days in May
the scent of roses —
I think of my mother
    Angiola Inglese

carolina jasmine climbing a fence my mother’s gift
    Ann Carter

water baby
my daughter runs toward
her first view of ocean waves
    Antonia Matthew

spring equinox
my granddaughter and I
start our seeds
    Barbara Kaufmann

perfectly seasoned
cabbage soup –
mom’s wooden spoon
    Barbara Sabol

rose and jasmine
the scent of my aunts
in their names
    Barrie Levine

hunkered in the sand
my granddaughter builds castles
for hermit crabs
    Bryan Cook

polio survivor
mother says covid
won’t get her either
    Bryan Rickert

writing together
twelve women calling on
the muses
    Carole Johnston

granddaughter . . .
like mom and myself
sleeping in silk
    Carole MacRury

sunlit lake
my niece jumps into the sound
of laughter
    Chen-ou Liu

first lipstick
afraid to lick
my lips
    Christina Chin

grandma chuckles
over the worm in the lettuce —
more protein
    Christina Martin

beach day
my daughter picks
a seashell for me
    Christina Sng

discovering my
poetry muse in the shower
midlife rescue
    Claire Vogel Camargo

first kiss —
she tells me about
global warming
    Dan Iulian

ice road
I weave blue ribbons
through mom’s hair
    Debbie Strange

deep freeze —
nana warms my small face
with her hands
    Deborah Burke Henderson

my teenage mother
the year she delivered mail
by horseback
    Deborah P Kolodji

ice skating
our friendship bonded
with broken bones
    Elena Calvo

spring fever
my mother puts on
a green dress
    Florin C. Ciobica

backyard ballerina . . .
I’m Margot Fonteyn
showered with petals
    Helen Buckingham

white peony
the subtlety
of my self-image
    Hifsa Ashraf

sisters in pajamas
reading a fairy tale
— missing our mom
    Janice Doppler

in 10th grade
the quiet teacher shares
haiku and Thoreau
    Jill Lange

mom’s junk mail protest
postage-paid return envelopes
ten pounds of rice
    Jim Mazza

hands of twenty women
palming drumskins for Ukraine
our shared heartbeats
    Jo Balistreri

grandmother’s coats
now a quilt
protects me against the cold
    Joan Leotta

believing
in my own magic . . .
drumming
    Joanna Ashwell

a doll house     a stage
she glues grass for her toy deer
makes its habitat
    Joel Savishinsky

VFW post
its new commander stands tall
on her prosthetic legs
    John J. Dunphy

Sunday services —
my daughter’s pink plastic ring
in the offertory
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

a shoulder to cry on
wishing she were my mom . . .
aunty Jean
    Karen Harvey

her wish for peace
my mother’s letters
to world leaders
        Kath Abela Wilson

proud grandma
flexes her biceps
big as grandpap’s
    Kathleen Kramer

all my ancestors
women birthing more women
an unbroken chain
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

independence day
my tween niece signs her name
with a sparkler
    Kristen Lindquist

family album
great-grandmother
in a pink nightgown
    Lakshmi Iyer

our playground
baseball star
my teacher nun
    Laurinda Lind

RBG
the outspoken pattern
of a lace collar
    Lorraine Padden

the sky is the limit . . .
I repeat mother’s words
to my daughter
    Madhuri Pillai

breakfast
with my favorite aunt
Coke in glass bottles
    Marcie Wessels

grandmama’s feedsack apron pockets of love
    Margaret Walker

white handkerchiefs
the mothers and grandmothers
who never give up
    Marianne Paul

the steadiness
of mother’s hand
first carousel ride
    Marietta McGregor

riverside amble . . .
teaching my daughter
which herbs to pick
    Marilyn Humbert

mom’s cookbook
the stained pages
take me back
    Marta Chocilowska

snapshots
between eighteen and seventy
her constant smile
    Michael Flanagan

first born —
we name our daughter
Rani, the queen
    Milan Rajkumar

my grown-up daughter
fearless and vulnerable
as a wildflower
    Mimi Foyle

turning 60 . . .
i feel more like ten
six-year-olds
    Mirela Brailean

mother-in-law
the gap in her teeth
filled with light
    Neena Singh

homemade dress
mama called it
custom-fit
    Pat Davis

tending tomatoes
Gran relives her mill town youth
a lass on a loom
    Paul Beech

Wilma Rudolph
the wind recalls in awe
her dash to fame
    Paul Callus

never any gossip
or unkind words
my friend’s funeral
    Pris Campbell

scenting the day
her scribbled notes
in my lunch box
    Richard L. Matta

85th birthday —
almost all Mom’s potted plants
still in bloom
    Robert Epstein

reminding me
of my femininity
Georgia O’Keeffe
    Roberta Beach Jacobson

shooing the toddler
out of the abandoned mine —
halo of her hair
    Ruth Yarrow

my old teacher
her death
a cello string snaps
    Sherry Grant

my no cancer trophy a mammogrammy
    Susan Burch

her hands create words
my sister unites
the deaf and the hearing world
    Teresa Bakota Yatsko

warm meteorite . . .
grandma pockets
a star
    Theresa A. Cancro

itself enough for
a family party
sister sally’s lasagna
    Tina Wright

ninety years
each of Granny’s cocker spaniels
named “Honey”
    Tom Clausen

sisters resting under
a cherry blossom tree
no need for words
    Vibeke Laier

echo of Mother’s voice
in the kitchen
singing Back in the Hills
    Wilda Morris

my sweetheart places
each flower in the vase
another act of love
    Zee Zahava

one-line haiku

Welcome to the February 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.


This month there is no particular theme. Each poem is just one line long (or even a single word!)  . . .  revealing meaning and depth in a deceptively simple form.


Contributing poets are from Australia, Brazil, Canada, China, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, Malta, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, Spain, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and the United States


tracing the snail’s trail moonlight
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

the night air menu of roasted chestnuts
    ai li

backing up on the car roof a cat
    Alan Bern

rain spills into darkness now and then snow
    Alan Peat

overgrown driveway the butterflies hold a fashion show
    Alan Summers

shape of grandma rising dough
    Alexis Rotella

in my pockets grains of sand from last year
    Angela Giordano

moonlight on my hand a mantis
    Angiola Inglese

black wheelbarrow balanced on its front edge to teach me a lesson
    Ann Carter

small joys woodpeckers at the suet feeder again
    Antonia Matthew

socked in for another day brain fog
    Barbara Kaufmann

rearview mirror the homestead comes into focus
    Barbara Sabol

shaking the down quilt out flies the mad cat
    Barrie Levine

big heads on skinny necks tulips quietly defying gravity
    Blue Waters

the bench’s shadow empty too
    Brad Bennett

house move zen garden in sandbags
    Bryan D. Cook

shrinking on a stone the crab-shaped wet spot
    Bryan Rickert

brother’s birthday today I search for the moon
    C. Robin Janning

whiteout the universe inside me
    Carole MacRury

again and again wild strawberries
    Caroline Skanne

his aloha shirt my migraine
    Charles Trumbull

cuttlefish threatened collecting some ink
    Chen Xiaoou

blizzardalonetogetherduringrushhour
    Chen-ou Liu

the hand pump water trickles first poem
    Christina Chin

desperate birdsong news just in
    Christina Martin

dusty old diaries half-lost memories
    Christina Sng

clothespin holding on to nothing
    Christine L. Villa

broken shell the sting of each wave
    Claire Vogel Camargo

starless night at a single window the insomniac light bulb
    Dan Iulian

driving back home sweet chili chips
    Daniela Misso

winds of change i take refuge inside myself
    Debbie Strange

bees white iris wraps their wings in nightfall
    Deborah Burke Henderson

winter wind weeds lean
    Donna Fleischer

playing tennis the back and forth in my mind
    Elena Calvo

mayflies rise at dusk last dance
    Frank Muller

birthday hug grandma’s peppermint breath
    Geethanjali Rajan

wobbling on one foot I tug on the other slipper
    Glenn Ingersoll

scarecity
    Helen Buckingham

social exclusion growing on the tree lichen
    Hifsa Ashraf

timing my dash to a soft-boiled egg
    Jack Goldman

what it takes to bend me bamboo
    Jackie Chou

lonely day i get a call from a robot
    Jay Friedenberg

snow        falling        all        day        long
    Jill Lange

a long winter suddenly shorter violets in the snow
    Jim Mazza

ill but not ill enough surgery delayed
    Joan Leotta

escalator back and forth between us
    Joanna Ashwell

a curled strand of her hair on my pillow crescent moon
    Joe Sebastian

my granddaughter wears her cat as if it were a shawl
    Joel Savishinksy

even the junk store’s sign cobwebbed
    John J. Dunphy

never the same dance twice breakwater
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

the beveled mirror of loneliness
    Karla Linn Merrifield

ancient salt ponds on mars our mother’s tears
    Kath Abela Wilson

new roof i miss the moss
    Kathleen Kramer

two years from eighty a weighty birthday
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

night walk startled by the whiteness of a moth
    kris moon

off in their own little world apple buds
    Kristen Lindquist

dreaming on my own paperboat I sail
    Lakshmi Iyer

ten thousand years the lake misses its glacier
    Laurinda Lind

droplets of smudged sky Monet lilies
    Lorraine A Padden

waking up the reflection in the mirror looks like my mother
    Lucia Cardillo

not letting a word in cicadas
    Madhuri Pillai

legos all her family together
    Margaret Walker

seagullsssssskimmmmmmmingblueskyclouds
    Marianne Paul

sliding into sea sliding into sea sliding
    Marietta McGregor

more gulls than sea ebb tide
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

river canyon swarm of swallows swoop from its mouth
    Marilyn Fleming

blind-sided the silent swoop of nesting magpies    
    Marilyn Humbert

reflected light in the broken pane a spiderweb
    Marta Chocilowska

saving face a little black mask with or without pearls
    Mary Kendall

my hair whiter one snowflake at a time
    Maya Daneva

a furry Buddha in fresh snow hobo cat greets the sun
    Michael Flanagan

polite words of lost friendship
    Michael Gallagher

car in the shop another book read
    Michael G. Smith

long journey steamy windows introspection
    Mimi Foyle

children’s room I rearrange memories
    Mirela Brailean

dropping pebbles from the footbridge my daughter’s daughter
    Miriam Sagan

raindrops raindrops raindrops worm raindrops raindrops
    Nancy Shires

perch for the robin’s song snowman’s hat
    Neena Singh

a corsage for myself just because
    Pat Davis

cracked bindings a bibliophile’s sneeze
    Paul Beech

bottom of the ravine my eyes swim upstream
    Paul Callus

white swan somewhere a ballerina is missing
    Pris Campbell

after party the lingering polite words
    Richard L. Matta

visiting for the smell overstocked bookshop
    Robert Epstein

waiting room reading the back of the sugar packet
    Rosa Clement

nursing home forced forsythia
    Ruth Yarrow

brushing snow from the day’s mail catalogs showing bathing suits
    Sue Norvell

making googly eyes at him pet rock
    Susan Burch

writing at dawn the shadow of my pencil on the blue-lined page
    Teresa Yatsko

a fly trapped in revolving doors morning rush
    Theresa A. Cancro

oh i have been the untamed river
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

comforting sight crows congregating in the winter oak
    Tina Wright

shoe box or fireplace love letters
    Tom Bierovic

a lucky penny where it landed
    Tom Clausen

moon meditation in dreams the small stars grow
    Vibeke Laier

after many years the wider shadow of the olive tree
    Wieslaw Karlinski

in the apple tree picking our favorite branches
    Wilda Morris

she turns the fan to face me this small act of tenderness
    Zee Zahava

morning haiku — from sunrise to noon

Welcome to the January 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

The theme this month is morning.

Contributing poets are from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, New Zealand, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and the United States



first bee
rolling dew
out of a flower
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

that time of morning
when a biscuit
calls
    ai li

a quiet morning
like all other mornings
in this wounding time
    Alan Bern

dawn walk
the deer and i
equally startled
    Alan Peat

Christmas morning
the cats wrap themselves
in ribbons
    Alexis Rotella

morning
same clouds
as yesterday
    Ana Drobot

dawn’s embrace just me and the last star
    Angela Giordano

sun in my eyes
a rose opens
clothes are hanging on the line
    Angiola Inglese

morning . . . the baby still hungry
I don’t look
in the bathroom mirror
    Antonia Matthew

post-op walk
clouds take all morning
to cross the sky
    Barbara Kaufmann

sunrise
coyote collects
his shadow
    Barbara Sabol

Kokopelli
playing his flute
to the rising sun
    Barbara Tate

morning chill
but i won’t turn up the heat
channeling dad
    Barrie Levine

New Year’s Day —
the sun sleeps late
too
    Bill Waters

once again
early morning dares to interrupt
my deepest sleep
    Blue Waters

morning forecast
a blue jay feather
on the front stoop
    Brad Bennett

morning dreams
interrupted
mourning doves
    Bryan D. Cook

morning grey
dried to the spoon
an old teabag
    Bryan Rickert

driving backroads
in the morning rain
all is calm
    C. Robin Janning

what luck
these collards on the stove
new year’s morn
    C.R. Harper

first light
pristine snow
on the path
    Carol Judkins

solstice dawn
the first thing I read
haiku
    Carole Johnston

feeling my age —
even before breakfast
I check the obits
    Carole MacRury

dawn stirring sparrows
    Caroline Skanne

the storm continues
I finish the whole pot
by noon
    Charles Trumbull

snow geese
unzip the morning sky
my journey starts
    Chen-ou Liu

dim sum breakfast
at the steamy table
small talk
    Christina Chin

dark morning
still deeply steeped
in nightmares
    Christina Sng

morning walk
feeling as relaxed
as a wet noodle
    Claire Vogel Camargo

spider at dawn
builds
a wireless network
    Dan Iulian

morning coffee —
my haiku mind
percolates
    Deborah Burke Henderson

morning roar
of the juicer
winter oranges
    Deborah P Kolodji

winter morning
a warm breath
on the orchid
    Donna Fleischer

morning mist . . .
mom doesn’t remember
dad’s name
    Florin C. Ciobica

morning tea —
sharing the verandah
with a ring-necked parrot
    Geethanjali Rajan

slow morning
the steady hum
from the cast iron kettle
    Hifsa Ashraf

first scribbles
in my new journal
morning bird songs
    Jackie Chou

sixteen eyes
staring as I wake —
her stuffed animals
    Janice Doppler

dawn light . . . each dune . . . slowly shape shifting
    Jay Friedenberg

this morning too
mama dancing
with Frank Sinatra
    Jill Lange

morning alarm clock
reset three times
then unplugged
    Jim Mazza

fly fishing
at dawn in Montana
still outwitted by bass
    Jo Balistreri

morning sun
reveals a gold ring
lost on last night’s walk
    Joan Leotta

blown back
my evening prayer
repeated in morning light
    Joanna Ashwell

e-subscription
my dog still searches for
the morning newspaper
    John J. Dunphy

morning flowers
and the wavy shadow
of a centipede
    Jorge Giallorenzi

morning video call —
mum asks me
to come back soon
    Julia Guzman

early wake up call
the rooster
who lives next door
    Kath Abela Wilson

my mug for morning tea
sports a spotted hen . . .
i call her dottie
    Kathleen Kramer

cold foggy morning
only the geraniums
give my world color
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

grey morning
if only our paths
would cross again
    kris moon

white dawn
a poem writes itself
in my head
    Kristen Lindquist

morning . . .
i release the night
from my breath
    Lakshmi Iyer

enough early sun
to make the ice lawn
look like quartz
    Laurinda Lind

dew anoints a headstone angel
    Lorraine A. Padden

mid morning
an eagle glides
around my lethargy
    Madhuri Pillai

morning rush
make-up
at the red light
    Margaret Walker

lotus opening
the sequence of my
sun salutation
    Marilyn Fleming

eucalypt canopy
a koala stretches its paw
towards morning sun
    Marilyn Humbert

sunny morning
the snowman loosens
his scarf
    Marta Chocilowska

cars awash
with cherry blossoms . . .
first light
    Mary Kendall

even the chipped mug
looks beautiful
this rainy morning
    Maya Daneva

in the snow
and silence of the morning
a black cat tiptoes
    Michael Flanagan

early morning the ambling magic of mushrooms
    Michael Gallagher

slow rising sun
I beat the birds
to the feeders
    Michael G. Smith

i walk with doughnuts
into an orange sunrise
vivid as wildfire
    Mimi Foyle

blackbird’s song begins with the sun’s first rays
    Mirela Brailean

early morning reading the Torah no bees yet in the bee balm
    Miriam Sagan

breakfast surprise
the wren and i
face to face
    Nancy Shires

morning ritual
brewing basil tea
a haiku bubbles
    Neena Singh

old postman
my morning mail
and a tip of his hat
    Pat Davis

crime fiction my perfect start to the day
    Paul Beech

hungry eyes
four feral cats pace waiting
for breakfast
    Pris Campbell

street fish market
the salty taste
of morning traffic
    Richard L. Matta

sunny morning
I lose my shadow
in the grove
    Rosa Clement

morning fog
the screech of
bus tyres
    Sherry Grant

morning lurches on
the cat remains unconvinced
of most ideas
    Stacey Murphy

stunning red sunrise
forecast of coming snowfall
please . . . some deep, deep drifts
    Sue Norvell

black crow caw-cawing
the only thing between me
and a morning nap
    Teresa Yatsko

blueberries tumbling in the colander my morning plans
    Theresa A. Cancro

morning clouds
i pull the night
back into my bones
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

winter milking
popping outside a minute
to see the rising sun
    Tina Wright

sunrise
one stone buddha blinks
to another
    Tom Clausen

quiet morning
a scarecrow greets
the farmer
    Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

this little crack
to let morning light into
my favourite poem
    Vibeke Laier

last dawn
at the hospital window
jasmine blooms
    Wieslaw Karlinski

stirring oatmeal for us kids
dad remembers
cooking for the troops
    Wilda Morris

another gray morning
walking for miles
searching for the sun
    Yvonne Fisher

early morning walk
meeting a squirrel
with a great sense of humor
    Zee Zahava

milkshake
for breakfast
bananas everywhere
    Zoe Grant

night haiku — from sunset to sunrise

Welcome to the December 2021 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

The theme this month is night.

Contributing poets are from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Ireland, Italy, Malaysia, New Zealand, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and the United States


torn net . . .
a mosquito takes half
of my night
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

asleep
on the lawn
under venus
    ai li

dream of a song
that devours itself
letter-by-letter nightly
    Alan Bern

silent night
the high street strung
with last year’s stars
    Alan Peat

35 light-years wide the Pleiades picks out my torch
    Alan Summers

stars
I wish I were
free to fall
    Alexis Rotella

foggy night
I draw the moon
on the train’s window
    Ana Drobot

night scribbling
waiting for my baby
to sleep
    Angela Giordano

rainy night
the rhythmic drip
of the faucet
    Angiola Inglese

in the dark
remembering to replace
the porch light
    Barbara Sabol

sleeper seats
brushed velvet
in the long blue night
    Barrie Levine

you come and go
as you please . . .
fickle moon
    Bill Waters

atop leafless trees
staring into the night
a parliament of owls
    Blue Waters

a mouthful
of chocolate cake
longest night
    Brad Bennett

crossword puzzles
and ice-cream wrappers
insomniac
    Bryan Cook

finals week
the all-nighter
of crickets
    Bryan Rickert

another cold night
echoing sound of wind chimes
up and down the street
    C. Robin Janning

midnight
Deimos and Phobos
encircle
    C.R. Harper

lights out
on the night train
melancholy moon
    Carol Judkins

barking at
the hooligan moon
rebel dog
    Carole Johnston

city blackout
we map our favorite
constellations
    Carole MacRury

howling wind
a child sings
herself to sleep
    Caroline Skanne

chill March night
the shrill whistle
of the teapot
    Charles Trumbull

jump shots
on a broken hoop . . .
late night drizzle
    Chen-ou Liu

footsteps
wooden clogs
night market
    Christina Chin

late night
my cat and I prowl
for intruders
    Christina Sng

clouds in a glass of beer one-night stand
    Christine L. Villa

the night hours
when fever peaks
and breaks
    Claire Vogel Camargo

moonlight
between shores a swan
ripples the silence
    Dan Iulian

moonless night
a cat’s shadow
lost in fog
    Daniela Misso

moonlight glints
on a trace of silver
a snail’s journey
    Deborah Burke Henderson

as the sun sets I rest
    Edna S. Brown

winter solitude
the comfort of tiny stars
on a dark night
    Eufemia Griffo

night train
the moon travels
without a ticket
    Florin C. Ciobica

in the earth’s shadow Buddha’s moon
    Geethanjali Rajan

night chill
counting the holes
in my socks
    Hifsa Ashraf

in college i roomed
with a young astronomer
impatient for night
    Jack Goldman

autumn moon
that first bite
of bean paste
    Jackie Chou

fingers
tracing the dipper
one large one small
    Janice Doppler

bedtime stories
deep in closet shadows
the bogeyman waits
    Jay Friedenberg

that summer night
on the lakeshore
counting shooting stars
    Jill Lange

sleepless sunday night
garbage trucks compete
with street sweepers
    Jim Mazza

the owl’s wings a midnight ostinato
    Jo Balistreri

three a.m.
summer and winter
I wake to darkness
    Joan Leotta

you and I
so much to say
the night rain
    Joanna Ashwell

moonless night
father and son converse
in monosyllables
    Joe Sebastian

our yard’s sundial
several hours off
in moonlight
    John J. Dunphy

moonless night
walking the trail
I stumble over a root
    Jorge Giallorenzi

a winged box kite:
the night his soul
flew free . . .
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

unwrapping
the night sky
Milky Way
    Karen Harvey

midnight bloom viewing
we invite the neighbors
to a pajama party
    Kath Abela Wilson

I don’t need a lamp
tonight’s moon reveals my pen
moving on the page
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

new moon
a long night alone
in the guest room
    Kristen Lindquist

night . . .
owls waiting their turn
to hoot at enemies
    Lakshmi Iyer

sleepless grandma weaves a long story into my scarf
    Laughing waters

recurring dream
again i don’t
save anyone
    Laurinda Lind

this indigo night
I dig into
another crime novel
    Lorraine Padden

autumn night
only the moon’s smile
at the window
    Lucia Cardillo

rooftop shenanigans
keeping me awake
neighborhood possums
    Madhuri Pillai

midnight blue mascara on his shirt
    Margaret Walker

fado music
permeates the air
mournful moon
    Marilyn Fleming

midnight stroll
my feet scattering
starlight
    Marilyn Humbert

late night plaza
a red-and-white suit
on the empty throne
    Mark Miller

lonely night
warming herself up
by the kettle
    Marta Chocilowska

night flight
the toddler’s effort to touch
the stars
    Maya Daneva

in the darkness our candle reveals the soft rain
    Michael Flanagan

tipple at sundown
darkness creeping up
the tilted glass
    Michael Gallagher

last train
to the airport
red-eye flight
    Michael G. Smith

nocturnal weather
cloudy with a chance of stars
frogs sing about sex
    Mimi Foyle

campfire
a few sparks
in Ursa Major
    Mirela Brailean

midnight phantom
beside the bed —
luminescent moth
    Nancy Shires

winter chill
the drag of his slippers
into the night
    Neena Singh

twilight
a fading constellation
of hot air balloons
    Pat Davis

ball lightning
stitching the black night blue . . .
a smell of sulphur
    Paul Beech

odes to the moon
crumpled paper
fills the floor
    Pris Campbell

night walk . . .
my shifty shadow
sole companion
    Richard L. Matta

late night
I let the spider sleep
in the bathroom
    Rosa Clement

binoculars:
earth’s shadow on the moon
trembling
    Ruth Yarrow

before sunrise
your side of the bed
still cold
    Sherry Grant

night in Yosemite stars elbow each other for room in the summer sky
    Sue Norvell

chicken pox explosion
ten itchy girls
at a sleepover party
    Teresa Bakota Yatsko

gibbous moon
a new
old-age spot
    Theresa A. Cancro

my late wife knew the
constellations but now
night skies are only stars
    Tina Wright

sleeping alone my inner night light
    Tom Clausen

midnight sky
we connect the stars
to form our initials
    Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

half moon
the silence of
a lost letter
    Vibeke Laier

full moon
illuminates the garden
yesterday’s laundry
    Wieslaw Karlinski

awakened in the night
by his snoring . . .
thankful he is alive
    Wilda Morris

night falls early
all dressed up
nowhere to go
    Yvonne Fisher

nearly dawn
this old house belches
and goes back to sleep
    Zee Zahava