Saturday, October 1, 2016

haiku written on September 22, 2016

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

This month's collection features poems that were written on a single date: September 22, 2016.

Contributors are from: Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, England, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Poland, Singapore, Turkey, the U.K., and the United States



before dawn
lights switched on
opening doors to let light out
    - Alan Bern

morning hesitates — deep fog lingers
    - Alan Catlin

new season
aubergine pimpernels climb
the bedroom wall
    - Alan Summers

not a single leaf left
on the guava tree —
hard work sweeping the yard
    - Amauri Solon

equinox
the sun halfway
to my winter chair
    - Barbara Kaufmann

Walmart
first day of autumn
Christmas garlands
    - Barbara Tate

season of change . . .
leaf by golden leaf
the sweet gum
    - Bill Waters

grandma hangs quilts
on the line —
I bring fall leaves
    - Brenda Roberts

lost in the clouds
what happened
today
    - C. Robin Janning

6 months missing
i start feeding a cat
that looks like mine
    - Caroline Skanne

excuse for my new shawl open window
    - Christina Martin

this delicate dance
of avoiding each other
scenic route
    - Christina Sng

rotten posts
the barbed wire leans
on a milkweed
    - Dan Schwerin

when did clothes
go out of fashion?
naked mannequins
    - David J. Kelly

dancing alone
I embrace
my flaws
    - Debbi Antebi

the bleached husk
of a small crayfish . . .
summer wanes
    - Debbie Strange

moonlight walk
a ghost wind rearranges
the fallen leaves
    - Dottie Piet

after fifty years —
sex is not sex anymore
it's life itself
    - Frank Robinson

back from vacation
a voicemail message
what's my password
    - Glenn Ingersoll

afternoon migraine —
because of left-handedness
chaos in the guest room
    - Goran Gatalica

snooze alarm
the cat and I
close our eyes again
    - Hannah Mahoney

autumn equinox
the eye of the storm
blazes down
    - Helen Buckingham

scudding clouds
under a bridge the fitful
flap of bats
    - Jan Benson

grocery run —
a stand of mums
with a hundred tiny harvest moons
    - Jennifer Hambrick

the cat interrupts my nap— a fat grasshopper
    - Jim Roser

an apple blossom breeze . . .
longing for something
i cannot name
    - Jo Balistreri

first day of autumn
put sunscreen lotion away
take out blankets
    - Joan McNerney

traffic jam
at the 4-way stop
7 a.m.
    - Joanna M. Weston

leftovers again half a day moon
    - Julie Warther

mournful lights of night —
aurora borealis —
green veils, white shrouds
    - Karla Linn Merrifield

two canna lilies
you and I bloom today
in the garden pond
    - Kath Abela Wilson

hummingbird poses
on spiky autumn flowers —
but my pen is too slow
    - Katya Taylor

fall hike
ziploc bag in a pocket
for cranberries
    - kjmunro

one smaller maple
down the street
always turns first
    - Madeleine Cohen Oakley

plane window
so close yet so far
day moon
    - Madhuri Pillai

urban walk
the tractor trailer's shadow
runs me over
    - Marianne Paul

at your graveside
oblivious to the rain
sunflowers
    - Marion Clarke

autumn equinox —
my plane flies to the southern
hemisphere
    - Marta Chocilowska

half moon
the things I meant
to say
    - Martha Magenta

long drive into fall
Kiri Te Kanawa
sings colors to the trees
    - Marty Blue Waters

shortening days
same amount
of writing time
    - Michael G. Smith

yellow chamisa, purple asters — every year your yahrzeit
    - Miriam Sagan

dog
on an old chair
a toy and a bone
    - Nada Jacmenica

night sky
Ursa Major
with extra red star
    - Nancy Brady

garden parrot
calls us into
the tropical greenhouse
    - Pat Davis

no passersby
my mind wanders . . .
this acorned street
    - Pat Geyer

crickets singing —
already the hydrangea heads
are bent with dew
    - Phoebe Lakin

dark attic
no place for a doll
that used to need me
    - Phyllis Lee

downhill racer
my good eye no longer
my good eye
    - Pris Campbell

hard rain
the difference between knowing
and not
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

windless afternoon
in my wind chimes
a baby gecko
    - Rosa Clement

mid-morning
the floral carpet blooms
in the sunroom
    - Simon Hanson

city park
brown circles
where trees were
    - Skaidrite Stelzer

wild asters push
through bleached branches —
september light
    - Sondra J. Byrnes

alone on the lake
hearing whispered confessions
from the red lighthouse
    - Stacey Murphy

unable to write
i look up from my page—
a robin watching me
    - Stephen Page

september heat —
woolen sweaters
hibernate under my bed
    - Sue Norvell

suspended in time
softly fallen leaf
in the spider's web
    - Susan Lang

pillow talk —
daybreak in the curl
of a rose petal   
    - Theresa A. Cancro

until I see you again palace swans
    - Tim Gardiner

all this pretty day
i think of the forest walk
i will take then don't
    - Tina Wright

coming to morning light
beetle hieroglyphics
on a log
    - Tom Clausen

the bower birds'
choice of blue
buttons and sky
    - Tricia Knoll

parallel motion —
the train car
and a blue heron
    - Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

keeping stars alive
on rice paper
autumn calligraphy
    - Vibeke Laier

wrapping the house
in a polka dot scarf —
i wake up laughing
    - Zee Zahava

4 comments:

  1. Enjoying and revisiting this set of haiku poems from a September day. :-)

    warm regards,

    Alan

    ReplyDelete
  2. Enjoying the poems and the differences. Always so comforting... I love your work, Zee.
    Warm regards.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Enjoying the poems and the differences. Always so comforting... I love your work, Zee.
    Warm regards.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Several I really like, from the nonwriting writer watched by the robin (Page) to the gecko paused in the wind chimes (Clement) to feeding the lookalike cat (Skanne). So much happens from pre-dawn to polka dot scarf!

    ReplyDelete