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