Friday, April 1, 2016

April issue: one-line haiku

Welcome to the April 2016 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

This month there is no particular theme but each poem is just one line long (sometimes only one word!)  . . .  revealing beauty and depth in a deceptively simple form.

Contributors are from Australia, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, England, France, India, Ireland, Philippines, Poland, Romania, and the United States



folding café napkins between lunch and early dinner
    - Alan Bern

desk top with snow globes, storm clouds locked inside
    - Alan Catlin

not yet light the wall and its black cat
    - Alan Summers

cloudy her evening eyes after washing off her makeup
    - Ana Drobot

over under beyond green mountains spring mist
    - Angelee Deodhar

sea waves returning to the empty snail shells
    - Archana Kapoor Nagpal

you smile I pretend not to notice
    - Barbara Cartwright

weeping cherry mother always loved you best
    - Barbara Kaufmann

on the seventh day birds sing in the garden
    - Barbara Tate

ancient well the bucket has no reflection
    - Billy Antonio

horse whispering daughter apple blossoms in her smile
    - Caroline Skanne

green ferns rustle big paws
    - Chandler Scott-Smith

winter rain the scent of mourning
    - Christine L. Villa

the common language we don't speak to each other
    - Dave Read

( ( ( (frog) ) ) )
    - David J. Kelly

a curl of eyelash on your pillow crescent moon
    - Debbie Strange

david bowie the genie returns to his lamp
    - Devin Harrison

so many bracelets so little time
    - Gabrielle Vehar

this dagger in my heart last night's empty sugar
    - Helen Buckingham

driving home the white breath of buffalo across the plains
    - Jo Balistreri

all the greens of spring opening our eyes
    - Joan McNerney

empty elevator her perfume tarries
    - Joann Grisetti

homebound the excitement of mail
    - Julie Bloss Kelsey

weeping willow . . . another widow's rain
    - Karen O'Leary

worm and robin wrestle with complexity
    - Karla Linn Merrifield

above the kitchen sink an older woman's reflection
    - Kat Lehmann

even the night bird is sleeping low wind
    - Kath Abela Wilson

always a garden betrayal of truth
    - Katherine May

tire chatter on the long highway
    - Lance Robertson

vast sky features single hawk
    - Leah Grady Sayvetz

crocuses bending low so cold
    - Linda Keeler

hot air all through the night his lies
    - Lovette Carter

despite the budding trees my mind remains in winter
    - Margaret Dennis

we waited until we met
    - Margaret Jones

hangingfromathreadbareemotions
    - Marianne Paul

chest deep in sunset the rising tide
    - Mark E. Brager

first dragonfly touching the grass morning dew
    - Marta Chocilowska

greatest love one hug at a time
    - Marty Blue Waters

sudden fog I forget where I've been
    -Mary Kendall

small creek rising flooded basement hurricane season
    - Michael Schaff

dinosaur fossil quarry — my own aching bones
    - Miriam Sagan

yesterday phone calls from both sisters lucky me
    - Nancy Osborn

winter sun a bird plays with its shadow
    - Nicole Pottier

a field of orange hawkweed gentle monarch breeze
    - Pamela A. Babusci

the cane alone in the corner will we soon partner
    - Pat Geyer

seed catalog she finds a name for her baby
    - Phyllis Lee

fragments of poems emerging my dog's damp nose
    - Pris Campbell

dusting old family photos winter sun
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

strangers before small favor
    - Rob Sullivan

found letters fed into the flaring hearth unread
    - Ron Scully

spring stars just enough to match her age
    - Rosa Clement

the color of his eyes a year of grief
    - Sara Robbins

softly softly bluebells in the mist
    - Simon Hanson

we are only spilling ink
    - Sondra Byrnes

the place of stones instructions from the dripping moss
    - Stacey Murphy

I collect them — folding bookcases and dust bunnies
    - Sue Crowley

putting on mittens and muffler — searching for the first crocus
    - Sue Norvell

paws on his shoulder ownership
    - Sue Perlgut

snow drops — a child calls here are some more
    - Susan Lesser

a mosquito in my ear the midnight train
    - Theresa A. Cancro

still in denial fortune teller
    - Tim Gardiner

the time it takes to shape shift . . .
    - Tom Clausen

mother's room one lonely candle burning out   
    - Vibeke Laier

babies — ha ha ha
    - Yvonne Fisher

quick before it's too late ripening avocado
    - Zee Zahava