Friday, October 1, 2021

numbers

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

The theme this month is numbers.

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

dark river
2 beavers play
in the moon spot
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

spring migration
2 herons hurry
to catch up
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

1967
a flower child
asleep in the meadow
    ai li

sisters
the 2 of us
so unlike mother
    ai li

3 trees
behind
3 trees
    Alan Bern

3 old trees
a bald man scratches
his brow
    Alan Bern

434 species of seabird
1 stole
my sandwich
    Alan Peat

his stick and her arm
2 old trees
leaning together
    Alan Peat

50 percent
of my happiness —
your smile
    Ana Drobot

the clock strikes 12
my daughter celebrates
her 24th birthday
    Angela Giordano

autumn wind
1 gray hair falls
with the leaves
    Angela Giordano

convalescence —
2 steps with butterflies
in the tall grass
    Angiola Inglese

37 years
all that changes is
our hair color
    Ann Carter

I name them once again
Kate  John  Mike  Fran Tom
I really raised all 5?
    Antonia Matthew

3 shakes of chili powder
and 2 blankets —
first frost
    Barbara Sabol

interstate 15
on my way to Vegas
wondering who I’ll be
    Barbara Tate

afternoon shadow
his only chance to be
6 feet tall
    Barbara Tate

at the shelter
love at first sight I adopt
2 kittens
    Barbara Tate

1980s attire
the weight
of shoulder pads
    Barrie Levine

childhood phone #
LI 3-3033
wired in me
    Barrie Levine

the countless times
i dream of you
my best 40 years
    Barrie Levine

that perilous switch
on the 8 and 9 . . .
hopscotch grid
    Barrie Levine

6 p.m.
this morning’s tea
cold in the cup
    Bill Waters

my 74th birthday
the crossword puzzle
easily solved
    Blue Waters

10 stoplights long
my daughter’s rambling
apology
    Bryan Rickert

all-day hike
5 miles in we find
our silence
    Bryan Rickert

20th anniversary
the way she dresses up
the leftovers
    Bryan Rickert

1/2 off
navigating
the aisles
    C.R. Harper

college professor
wraps up his quarter-hour talk
in 50 minutes
    Charles Trumbull

in the back 40
60 years
of automotive history
    Charles Trumbull

3.4 seconds
between each of her
snores
    Charles Trumbull

2 for 1 . . . 3 for 1
the melon vendor’s mask
under his chin
    Chen-ou Liu

hush of early snow
1 more white lie
added to her complaints
    Chen-ou Liu

2 folded hands
the praying mantis
quietly preys
    Christina Chin

late bloomers
in the new jade vase
7 autumn roses
    Christina Chin

9 p.m. i tap
the nooks and crannies
where crickets chirp
    Christina Chin

spider —
dewdrops on
its 500th web
    Christina Martin

crick in my neck —
a small tear
on page 125
    Christina Martin

age 7
I wonder
why I exist
    Christina Sng

I keep to
even numbers
10 ear piercings
    Christina Sng

what have I
gotten myself into
1200 piece jigsaw
    Christina Sng

bedtime after
our evening walk
the dog’s 2 circles
    Claire Camargo

inside a pocket
of an old Carnival dress . . .
1,000 lire
    Daniela Misso

our deaf Dalmatian more than 101 negative spaces
    Debbie Strange

miniature forest
in a clump of moss . . .
1 red berry
    Deborah Burke Henderson

dry run
3 big yellow buses
practice their routes
    Deborah Burke Henderson

ocean spray
4 sets of sneakers
left on the beach
    Deborah P Kolodji

cactus garden
600,000 needles reflected
in the afternoon sun
    Deborah P Kolodji

on the porch
3 peanut shells
wet with squirrel spit
    Glenn Ingersoll

sardines:
omega-3
killer key
    Helen Buckingham

evening timepass
refilling the pill box
in 2 hours
    Hifsa Ashraf

lemon water
pondering the weight
of 5 calories
    Jackie Chou

crow caw
pressing the walk button
for the 5th time
    Jackie Chou

birthday email from mom
counting the 10 extra
exclamation marks
    Jay Friedenberg

old barn
the weathered wood
of 100 seasons
    Jay Friedenberg

steady rain
2 lovers
1 umbrella
    Jay Friedenberg

today . . .
2 perfect pumpkins
pick me
    Jill Lange

a yard full of trees
and no 2 spaced
to hold a hammock
    Jill Lange

my mother has fallen again
now even 1 step
is too many
    Jim Mazza

23 missed calls —
new cell phone
user error
    Jim Mazza

in the spiral
of the antique rose
1 blue damselfly
    Jo Balistreri

all 206 bones ache —
colorful leaves
cold rain
    Joan Leotta

eyes beginning
to droop . . . it must
be 9 p.m.
    Joan McNerney

“1 more thing”
I asked as the doctor
hurried away
    Joan McNerney

he loves me
he loves me not
1 petal remaining
    Joanna Ashwell

0347
his lucky lottery number
the time of his father’s death
    John J. Dunphy

-248
I show my wife
our checking account balance
    John J. Dunphy

claff . . . claff . . . claff . . .
slowly 2 horses
cross the river
    Jorge Alberto Giallorenzi

noon
2 sparrows taking a sand bath
in a flower pot
    Julia Guzman

4 years ago
at a truck stop in Kansas . . .
5 plastic palm trees
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

in the basket
marked “lonely” . . .
67 unmatched socks
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

lucky peace doves
how mother folded
her $2 bills
    Kath Abela Wilson

2021
the planetary year of
get well soon
    Kath Abela Wilson

at the bottom of my purse
2 tubes of lipstick
unused since i retired
    Kathleen Kramer

1940s photograph
my mother
sultry smoky beautiful
    Kathleen Kramer

3 teeth remaining
grandma takes her time
with the chicken wing
    Kathleen Kramer

for her school picture
my kid holds up 5 fingers
such a big girl now
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

3rd eye
found in the depths
of a moon flower
    kris moon

20-year-old dried flowers
the restaurant menu
hasn’t been changed either
    kris moon

71
seems like 10 years older
than 70
    kris moon

90th birthday
grandpa stretches
his yoga mat
    Lakshmi Iyer

1000 lotus petals
the sun shines equally
on each of them
    Lakshmi Iyer

2nd time i’ve dreamed of her
my neighbor
who swears at her kids
    Laurinda Lind

25 strings
the guzheng plucked
under a blue moon
    Lisbeth Ho

uprising
500 monarchs
take over a tree
    Lorraine A. Padden

1 red sock and 1 green
the smiles behind
the masks
    Madhuri Pillai

1,000000 hairs
on the floor —
my dog’s revenge
    Madhuri Pillai

my paintbox
56 shades
the watercolor blue
    Margaret Walker

shrinking violets
1 inch shorter than
I used to be
    Marianne Paul

pricking out
lettuce seedlings . . .
3 observant slugs
    Marietta McGregor

Beethoven’s 9th
a locked-down city
opens for picnics
    Marietta McGregor

crisp morning
1 dough ball
refusing to rise
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

1 tick
on a ferral kitten
autumn deepens
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

morning catch
6 rainbow trout
in the bucket
    Marilyn Humbert

the farmer’s smile
12 bags of wheat
per acre
    Marilyn Humbert

3 a.m.
the road train’s rumble
the length of our town
    Mark Miller

garden chess game
1 black pawn beats the white queen
in a rainstorm
    Marta Chocilowska

rainy autumn
10 clumsy fingers
on the keyboard
    Marta Chocilowska

10,000 leaves
my first primer
of tanka
    Marta Chocilowska

11 p.m.
I give my pen
some rest
    Maya Daneva

52 years, 8 months, 10 days, 12 hours
a long time yet not
a lifetime together
    Michael Flanagan

up at 6 a.m.
to watch a soccer match
6 hours in the future
    Michael Flanagan

2 label-less cans
left on the
food bank shelf
    Michael G. Smith

outside my kitchen
8 expectant irises
greet the new morning
    Mimi Foyle

coming up to noon
parking lot with 8 food trucks
tummy rumbles
    Mimi Foyle

5 o’clock
the sound of grandma sipping
from grandpa’s cup
    Mirela Brailean

last cranes . . .
I stop counting
after 17
    Mirela Brailean

marigold tea
in a watering can
16-month-old child
    Miriam Sagan

barefoot at 5 a.m.
lunar eclipse, nothing
in the mailbox
    Miriam Sagan

on the leafless branch
1 desolate kite
flutters in the wind
    Neena Singh

storyteller . . .
5-year-old grandson
pauses for breath
    Neena Singh

1,000,000,000 stars
the human obsession
with counting the unknown
    Pat Davis

116 facebook pals
the electricity
that binds us
    Pat Davis

blood sugar up 2.2
I shouldn’t have eaten
the cream cake
    Paul Beech

western roll . . .
I clear the bar at 5 feet
a schoolboy gymnast
    Paul Beech

75 pence —
my 1st magazine cheque
kept as a souvenir
    Paul Beech

99 years
I accidentally invert
the birthday cake candles
    Pris Campbell

1 loose baby tooth
mother ties a line
to the doorknob
    Pris Campbell

my birthday flowers
they too last only
1 day
    Rosa Clement

my arms barely curve —
800 rings farther in
the great cedar’s core
    Ruth Yarrow

3 taillights
around the mountain curve —
Orion!
    Ruth Yarrow

uneasy wind
after 1 ring I lift the phone
his death
    Ruth Yarrow

scavenger hunt
at a 2nd-hand shop
mum’s first novel
    Sherry Grant

17 fruit flies . . .  9 fruit flies . . .
now 3 . . .
but not yet 0
    Sue Norvell

2+2=5
he tries to convince me
he isn’t cheating
    Susan Burch

baggage carousel . . .
my legs still trembling
at 35,000 feet
    Theresa A. Cancro

adding up bills
my no. 2 pencil
breaks
    Theresa A. Cancro

childhood flashback —
1 nickel in the slot
3 gumballs
    Theresa A. Cancro

paris welcome —
chanel no. 5
on each cheek
    Theresa A. Cancro

37 years
how long it took
to love myself
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

1st kiss
how quickly the universe
expands
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

our 4-H club
head heart hands and health
not a bad mantra even now
    Tina Wright

$300 per night —
we gather up
the toiletries
    Tom Bierovic

winter rain
2 cocoa packets
per cup
    Tom Bierovic

farm auction
the crystal door knob
brings 3 dollars
    Tom Bierovic

in the park
a monarch lands on my watch
2:37 p.m.
    Tom Clausen

her family photos
arranged on the piano
0 of her husband
    Tom Clausen

out of all of them out there
I come home with
only 1 tick
    Tom Clausen

1 jigsaw
piece is lost —
a death
    Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

5 o’clock tea
the child arranges the table
for her 10 dolls
    Vibeke Laier

1st frost
blurs your name
on the tombstone
    Wieslaw Karlinski

with grandmother and 3 aunts
laughing together
shelling peas
    Wilda Morris

today’s mail
13 not-for-profits
vie for my donation
    Wilda Morris

bee sting
I itch for 1 week
last days of summer
    Yvonne Fisher

50 people dancing
to zydeco music
outside in the autumn light
    Yvonne Fisher

4 in the morning
alone with my worries
and the broken moon
    Zee Zahava

her gift to me
a drawing of 3 houseplants
i don’t have to water
    Zee Zahava

in the dream
packing 2 suitcases for London
no clothes . . . only books
    Zee Zahava






Wednesday, September 1, 2021

new haiku

Welcome to the September 2021 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal, featuring new haiku written in the last days of August.

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



empty beach
the wet track of a tortoise
filled with moonlight
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

darkening sky
i’m home alone
with shadows
    ai li

hanging moss . . .
somewhere above my head
a buzzing wasp nest
    Al Gallia

local park
three koi i know
by name
    Al Peat

big toes damaged
my wife and I
old ones with old toes
    Alan Bern

sun into moon
the first sit-down
with neighbours
    Alan Summers

back from Vegas
the neighbors
florescent
    Alexis Rotella

light breeze —
left undisturbed
my shadow
    Ana Drobot

laughter
bursts the soap bubbles
my grandchildren
    Angela Giordano

sun on the terrace —
a screen of roses
between me and tomorrow
    Angiola Inglese

high winds far away
my heart rate
in its resting zone
    Ann Carter

in this long drought
like pale withered squash flowers
my words
    Antonia Matthew

heart shaped leaves
a pair of doves land
together
    Barbara Kaufmann

lazy afternoon
counting the rotations of the
ceiling fan
    Barbara Tate

bathing in the lake
not once
thinking of you
    Barrie Levine

watermelon sunset . . .
I spit a seed
into the sky
    Bill Waters

wandering mind returns home
counting steps cars birds
squirrels leaves breaths
    Blue Waters

a summer of trails
the slug reaches
a mushroom
    Brad Bennett

bluff overlook
losing a bookmark
to the wind
    Bryan Rickert

wet garden gloves
dye my fingers yellow . . .
sunny
    C. Robin Janning

on my porch
we find a watermelon . . .
good fairies
    Carole Johnston

dappled path —
a squirrel scampers
into my shadow
    Carole MacRury

early stars
three kinds of miso
in the fridge
    Caroline Skanne & Violet Akalu-Skanne

zazen . . .
thoughts of my ex
come and go
    Chen-ou Liu

pinned
on the silk sash
a jewel beetle
    Christina Chin

unable to forget
your words
the tartness of tangerines
    Christina Sng

biological clock
I start to consider
pup parenting
    Christine L. Villa

a walk with friends
waving
brown-eyed Susans
    Claire Vogel Camargo

our discussion
on the quality of one haiku . . .
carrot snap
    Daniela Misso

whir of the fan
my heart pounds
sitting in stillness
    Deborah Burke Henderson

papers in boxes
shredding
my past
    Deborah P Kolodji

the rain —
verticality
flowers
    Donna Fleischer

summer twilight
a moth flies
in the shade of poppies
    Eufemia Griffo

power outage
through the mosquito net
a shooting star
    Florin C. Ciobica

stifling heat —
the day’s vapors
in an incense swirl
    Geethanjali Rajan

chasing the last berry
around the bowl
morning fog
    Glenn Ingersoll

fairy tale
stuck in the castle
my niece’s imagination
    Hifsa Ashraf

a bed of flowers
requires cultivation
or else it’s a flop
    Jack Goldman

busy sidewalk
a yellow butterfly’s
soundless flutter
    Jackie Chou

twilight now
folk music
on the radio
    Jill Lange

surrounding
a rogue sunflower
impatiens
    Jo Balistreri

I dream of my mother —
she seems distant
yet close enough to kiss
    Joan Leotta

laundry comes out
piping hot . . . zippers
burn my fingers
    Joan McNerney

could this
be our moment
blackberries
    Joanna Ashwell

old pond —
frog up to its neck
in sunset
    Joe Sebastian

resale shop
a child’s backpack
with bullet holes
    John J. Dunphy

crackling fire
slowly the moon
disappears
    Jorge Giallorenzi

mountain drive —
at the end of the curve
acacias in bloom
    Julia Guzman

one crumpled sock left
on the worn bedroom carpet —
college move-in day
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

kept in cold storage
in the library archive
petals between leaves
    Kath Abela Wilson

the coyotes
are howlling again tonight . . .
i open the window wider
    Kathleen Kramer

is time standing still
or passing like a comet
each day I wonder
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

my shy neighbor
on a nodding acquaintance
with her sunflowers
    Kristen Lindquist

black-capped chickadee
my father no longer alive
to whistle back
    Laurinda Lind

summer clouds —
reddish green apples
hanging on the blue sky
    Lisbeth Ho

still a few
of these days . . .
red hibiscus
    Lucia Cardillo

evening rainbow
a cockatoo screech
settles on a gum tree
    Madhuri Pillai

chocolate
licking the corners
of your mouth
    Margaret Walker

yellow cowslips
in a dung pile
this hope for change
    Marietta McGregor

seagulls
pull back the sky
beach sunset
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

soulful surge
of the night wind
bamboo chimes
    Marilyn Fleming

cloudless night
the owl moon’s
unblinking eye
    Marilyn Humbert

fresh laundry
forgotten in the pocket
dyer’s madder
    Marta Chocilowska

sitting beside him
needle slips in so smoothly
I can’t help but wince
    Masha M.

reading Issa
this bubble
in my cup of tea
    Maya Daneva

at the convent door . . .
don’t look at the clothes line
and knock . . . just the once
    Michael Flanagan

cappuccino
new art
at the coffee shop
    Michael G. Smith

never knew how much
i missed distant family
until I saw them
    Mimi Foyle

his slightly
spicy words —
the hot dog vendor
    Mirela Brailean

intermission
a meteor streaks over
the opera house
    Miriam Sagan

isolation —
a cicada’s cry
fills the gap
    Neena Singh

bedroom bookshelves
the meaning
of my dreams
    Olivier Schopfer

buttercups
another way to feel
the sun
    Pat Davis

sunset . . .
rods on tripods
father and son pull fish
    Paul Beech

planning ahead
I print my obituary
on a t-shirt
    Pris Campbell

truck stop
a stack of poetry books
under the counter
    Roman Lyakhovetsky

urban hummingbird
the next flower is
three blocks away
    Rosa Clement

pesto in freezer
the basil lingers
on my fingers
    Ruth Yarrow

mini skirt
I no longer own . . .
zoom speech
    Sherry Grant

the air is still thick
our fight like a too-short storm
remedies nothing
    Stacey Murphy

rude tomato!
this morning’s bright white shirt
red polka dotted
    Sue Norvell

more black clothes
perhaps they’ll make me
an honorary crow
    Susan Burch

summer clouds . . .
spider silk clings
to my fingertips
    Theresa A. Cancro

tugboat nosing a
barge up the Hudson
quiet as the fish
    Tina Wright

alone
my shadow
mimics me
    Tom Clausen

a couple of sparrows
in the old oak tree
a kiss in the morning
    Vibeke Laier

the scarecrow
darker from year to year
grandfather’s hat
    Wieslaw Karlinski

toddler
painting her lips
with a red marker
    Wilda Morris

unwrinkling my wrinkles
your hand on
my face
    Zee Zahava


Sunday, August 1, 2021

family & friends

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

The theme of this month’s collection is family & friends.

Contributing poets sent work from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Bulgaria, Canada, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Indonesia, Israel, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, New Zealand, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and the United States



father/son talk
daddy tells me
how he met mum
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

grandpa’s will
all his clothes go
to the scarecrow
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

mother posing
by her prize orchids
the photograph remains
    ai li

giving blood
to save a life
we’re sisters now
    ai li

under a stunted fir
same rock pile
sister and I once climbed
    Alan Bern

every stranger
I’ve seen today
looks like a dead friend
    Alan Bern

my brother and I
fight over
the gizzard
    Alexis Rotella

lunch with an old friend
her facelift
between us
    Alexis Rotella

red rose
in full bloom —
an old friend calls
    Ana Drobot

video call
my son’s
first white hair
    Angela Giordano

a spritz of Chanel
my mother enters
the room
    Barbara Sabol

night light
my granddaughter discovers
her shadow
    Barbara Sabol

run for the roses
my husband forgets
our anniversary
    Barbara Tate

grandma’s thimbles
the know-how
in her clicking fingers
    Barrie Levine

scooping snow
I throw the morning moon
to my grandson    
    Barrie Levine

clutching the letter —
her dad lifts her up
to the mail slot
    Bill Waters

eight aunts, three uncles
mom’s family arrives . . .
I head to my tree house
    Blue Waters

death anniversary
still dusting
father’s things
    Bryan Rickert

summer rain
my children debate the rules
of a made up game
    Bryan Rickert

grandma and child
putting on spectacles
summer solstice
    C.R. Harper

dad’s papers . . .
reading what I can bear
sealing the rest
    C. Robin Janning

moon lost to me . . .
camera feels heavy
aiming toward friends
    C. Robin Janning

bedtime poems
older sister made me
who I am
    Carole Johnston

mother-in-law’s wedding ring
on a gold chain arrives
in the mail
    Carole Johnston

family Bible
my funny uncle’s birth day
a little blotted
    Charles Trumbull

dry bonsai —
reminding Mother again
what a haiku is
    Charles Trumbull

smoky twilight
grandpa slips in and out
of memory
    Chen-ou Liu

fog over the cliff
what did my friend see
at his last moment
    Chen-ou Liu

friends exchange
sticky rice dumplings
solar maximum festival
    Christina Chin

a chat with cake
the perfect afternoon
with a friend
    Christina Sng

hand in hand
our little girls walk
instant best friends
    Christina Sng

each of us guesses
who visited my mother
lilies on her grave
    Christine L. Villa

we each have
our own version of the story
family reunion
    Christine L. Villa

family hike
my best burger eaten cold
on a cold mountain
    Claire Vogel Camargo

three herons fly
into my mother’s canvas . . .
my brothers and I
    Daniela Misso

distant parents —
so many mountains
from the window
    Daniela Misso

tire swing
my sisters push me
into my comfort zone
    Debbie Strange

colored balloons
releasing my sister’s spirit
skyward
    Deborah Burke Henderson

fishing with dad
he puts the worm
on my hook
    Deborah P Kolodji

one I love
thinks it’s her new blush . . .
her beauty
    Donna Fleischer

Delta surges —
friends at a summer picnic
banter
    Donna Fleischer

rose tea
sipping from
my old aunt’s cup
    Eufemia Griffo

pirate movie
sharing with my dad
a bottle of rum
    Florin C. Ciobica

meteor shower
remembering
my dad’s last wish
    Florin C. Ciobica

the old harmonium
a discordant note
from grandma
    Geethanjali Rajan

friends meet
the same old jokes
somehow funnier
    Geethanjali Rajan

half-open window
the family photo gathers
more dust
    Hifsa Ashraf

rare family dinner
all of us
in a new relationship
    Hifsa Ashraf

four leaf clover
the word “money”
on mother’s tongue
    Jackie Chou

lonely dorm
my sister’s visit
highlight of the day
    Jackie Chou

frozen clothesline
my daughter’s jeans
stand up for themselves
    Jay Friedenberg

waiting for an old friend
a lighthouse beacon
pierces the fog
    Jay Friedenberg

chicken pox fever dream
scent of my father’s t-shirt
sweat and old spice
    Jim Mazza

a fallen oak
obscures my father’s gravestone —
finally, the shade he craved
    Jim Mazza

dad’s old pipes on my desk
I remember chasing
smoke rings    
    Joan Leotta

my cousin’s ice blue eyes
are even more startling
than this sunset
    Joan McNerney

my nana
swirls the tea
reading my leaves
    Joanna Ashwell

sharing a teapot
a friendship circle
the tinkle of china
    Joanna Ashwell

twin sisters
a single Barbie
sharing their secrets
    Joe Sebastian

friend in Covid ward
my fear
in his eyes
    Joe Sebastian

sixth birthday
dad gives me
a sip of his beer
    John J. Dunphy

my first game of pinball
dad babysits me at
his favorite bar
    John J. Dunphy

meeting with friends . . .
no scent of tea
via zoom
    Jorge Alberto Giallorenzi

old village —
the solitary grave
of an unknown aunt
    Julia Guzman

lessons from mom
how to dance
with my eyes
    Kath Abela Wilson

nana’s toes
it was my job
to rub them
    Kath Abela Wilson

grandmother’s portrait
we have the same pointed chin
and lots of chutzpah
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

she sets the table
plans the menu, plays waitress
daughter’s 8th birthday
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

the crimson
my daughter paints her lips
the same as my mom once did
    kris moon

late autumn . . .
friends gather
just because
    kris moon

art show
my sister in a red dress
among the hollyhocks
    Kristen Lindquist

a friend’s birthday
the glamor of blue jays
in fresh snow
    Kristen Lindquist

children’s corner
grandparents enact
freedom struggle
    Lakshmi Iyer

family album
except for grandparents
all in colours
    Lakshmi Iyer

gloves my father stole
at the post office
turned out to be his
    Laurinda Lind

my cousin and I
born the same year
don’t leave without me
    Laurinda Lind

pansies in pudding the taste of my aunt’s love
    Lisbeth Ho

sibling’s call
my advice again
on deaf ears
    Madhuri Pillai

online meeting
first cousins
once removed
    Margaret Walker

she bit me
I pulled her hair . . .
seventy years of stories
    Margaret Walker

old obituary
finding out my aunt
wrote poetry too
    Marianne Paul

spy novels —
inheriting mom’s closetful
of trench coats
    Marianne Paul

police raid —
gramps running numbers
from the kitchen
    Marianne Paul

family reunion
four generations
of farmer tans
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

sister tents
rubbing mosquito bites
with beach sand
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

sunday mass
mother tames our hair
with spit
    Marilyn Fleming

herding cattle
in search of pasture
my drover family
    Marilyn Humbert

my maternal line
captured behind glass
parasols and lace
    Marilyn Humbert

following tracks
in the shade of a high mountain
my friend’s resting place
    Marta Chocilowska

seedy watermelon
grandma wants to know
my boyfriend
    Maya Daneva

six months old
my husband carrying our world
on his shoulders
    Maya Daneva

in the root cellar
beside Aunt Mame’s peaches
pressed flowers in a bible
    Mike Flanagan

my distant sister
whom I would love to embrace
won’t answer her phone
    Mimi Foyle

the sound of her voice
from another continent
rekindles friendship
    Mimi Foyle

dad’s birthday —
at the head of the table
the empty chair
    Mirela Brailean

turn-off
to my daughter’s — left at
immense sky
    Miriam Sagan

a friend I never see yet think of — empty mailbox
    Miriam Sagan

the way grandma
thinned dough until it
covered the tabletop
    Nancy Shires

a friend leaves books
I leave books
together we read apart
    Nancy Shires

hide and seek —
grandpa’s eyes search
his younger self
    Neena Singh

class reunion
where has she gone
the fastest runner
    Neena Singh

open windows
nana whispers
to her plants
    Pat Davis

a letter from nana
the challenge
of her cursive
    Pat Davis

new baby
my four-year-old reminds me
he’s an uncle now
    Paul Beech

my funny friend . . .
our main course sizzling
she sends me smoke signals
    Paul Beech

heat wave
my father churns ice cream
in the shade
    Pris Campbell

red rover
we lock arms with friends
for the capture
    Pris Campbell

ankle-deep in sand
my son rotates the sunrise
in his kaleidoscope
    Roman Lyakhovetsky

distant thunder
my buddy’s wife creates drama
from a misplaced sock
    Roman Lyakhovetsky

seniors’ party
my father introduces
his inner child
    Rosa Clement

another beer
my friend now speaks
eloquently
    Rosa Clement

granddaddy napping
my foxtail grass turns his snore
to a snort
    Ruth Yarrow

board game nights
all the survival skills
dad teaches
    Sherry Grant

summer chirping —
still no word
from my sister
    Susan Burch

prom pictures —
the smiles
between parents
    Susan Burch

a big
bundle of boys
family camping
    Ted Sherman

chittering sparrows . . .
comparing toe rings with cousins
by the pool
    Theresa A. Cancro

sticky fingers . . .
an aunt’s cherished recipe
for Turkish delight
    Theresa A. Cancro

after covid
two beers in a garden with friends
feels like mardi gras
    Tina Wright

we take turns
blowing out the candles
Grandpa’s birthday
    Tom Bierovic

my daughter growing
closer and closer
to the mirror
    Tom Clausen

relatives set to visit
so many cobwebs
to remove
    Tom Clausen

my sister picking
a tiny midsummer rose
fairy lanterns
    Vibeke Laier

in the street
a long lost friend
summer rain
    Vibeke Laier

square enso
my son’s first
calligraphy lesson
    Vladislav Hristov

family album
I compare father’s wrinkles
with mine
    Wieslaw Karlinski

scent of hay
granddaughter’s first meeting
with a grasshopper
    Wieslaw Karlinski

the stranger
who said he was my father
was
    Wilda Morris

looking for ancestors
my sister finds her name
old gravestone
    Wilda Morris

grandma’s false teeth
on her bedside table . . .
I pretend not to notice
    Zee Zahava

Thursday, July 1, 2021

childhood memories

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

The theme of this month’s collection is childhood memories.

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


the shape
of our childhood clay pots —
puddle rain
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

childhood river
my reflection
lost to mud
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

barefoot
on the verandah
my wee footprints
    ai li

playing hopscotch
our silhouettes
at dusk
    ai li

my birthday cakes
have become
black & white photographs
    ai li

on my back
arms up
beetle soars by
    Alan Bern

we all shouted
GOAL!
even with no ball
    Alan Bern

race from the basement
to the attic
and back
    Alan Bern

hugging the doll
I hug
myself
    Alexis Rotella

among mom’s lingerie
a book on how babies
are made
    Alexis Rotella

river bed
fishing with dad
every sunday
    Amauri Solon

mild fever
always meant
warm porridge at bed
    Amauri Solon

among the new grass
collecting snails —
my grandmother and me
    Angela Giordano

until sunset —
hunting for moths
chasing my dreams
    Angela Giordano

at dusk my grandmother
puts out a saucer of milk
for the hedgehogs
    Antonia Matthew

supper at boarding school
we found a rusty nail
in the rice pudding
    Antonia Matthew

on the walk home
dad points out the moon
ice cream cones
    Barbara Kaufmann

ocean waves
the day my brother
wandered off
    Barbara Kaufmann

a flashlight
for reading in the dark
nancy drew
    Barbara Kaufmann

family reunion
four granddaughters learn
to bake biscuits
    Barbara Tate

past bedtime
freeing lightning bugs
from the jar
    Barbara Tate

Planters Peanuts, seagulls,
and motorized rolling chairs . . .
boardwalk memories
    Bill Waters

arts & crafts
with mom . . .
making memories
    Bill Waters

stiff white Easter dress
begs me to go jump into
a big mud puddle
    Blue Waters

crow and I in a tree
imitating the neighbor’s
fussy baby
    Blue Waters

runt of abandoned litter
thinks I’m his mother
raccoon named Chuck
    Blue Waters

alone again
on the woodland trail
turtle and I
    Bryan Rickert

summer vacation
the little freedom
a bicycle brings
    Bryan Rickert

childhood secrets
every good spot
in the fishing hole
    Bryan Rickert

cracking jokes
over our heads
middle school
    C.R. Harper

childhood dream
freeing canaries
from your mine
    C.R. Harper

always serious
watching for clouds and storms . . .
except when reading
    C. Robin Janning

all afternoon
bounce the ball pick up the jacks . . .
learning to count
    C. Robin Janning

my sister and I
practicing for communion
with necco wafers
    C. Robin Janning

carousel pony
salty breeze . . . organ music
I miss the gold ring
    Carole Johnston

we are horses
we gallop and trot
with the wind
    Carole Johnston

on mother’s lap
with my favorite book . . .
she falls asleep
    Carole Johnston

aces up
grandma teaches me
how to cheat
    Caroline Skanne

summer rain escaping into The Secret Garden
    Caroline Skanne

small drawers
in secret I try on
her evil eye
    Caroline Skanne

Whitman’s Sampler:
I still remember the fillings
of each chocolate
    Charles Trumbull

home for the holidays
my mother’s favorite chair
a little more worn
    Charles Trumbull

white-streaked sky
scribbles in the margins
of my math textbook
    Chen-ou Liu

highs and lows
of the summer ferris wheel
me and the girl next door
    Chen-ou Liu

blustery wind
my upturned umbrella
catches the rain
    Christina Chin

ladybird
in a glass jar
wildflowers
    Christina Chin

sitting in the shadows
I invent new worlds
with stuffed animals
    Christina Sng

daydreaming
I sit on my swing
after school
    Christina Sng

childhood teacups
made up stories
made up friends
    Christine L. Villa

mom’s passing
another cold breakfast
and dead silence
    Christine L. Villa

playing grown-up
a drop of coffee
in my milk
    Claire Vogel Camargo

summer days
listening for the
ice cream truck
    Claire Vogel Camargo

dining room table
aunt jean’s tortoise shell
cigarette holder
    Claire Vogel Camargo

my handkerchief
filled with blades of grass
kindergarten
    Daniela Misso

squabbles . . .
talking to the roses
in the courtyard
    Daniela Misso

cumulonimbus
the percussion of hail
against our silos
    Debbie Strange

blistering sun
we wade through a river
of barley
    Debbie Strange

dinner bell
the wind swallows
its sound
    Debbie Strange

weeding the shell drive
arthritic fingers teach
young hands
    Deborah Burke Henderson

painted desert
our crayons melt
on the back seat
    Deborah Burke Henderson

white stallion
trusted friend in the
dark of night
    Deborah Burke Henderson

too many freckles
at the 4th of July picnic
strawberries
    Deborah P Kolodji

mom’s books, my books . . .
the bus we took
to the library
    Deborah P Kolodji

father-daughter moments
wild chicory
in the wicker basket
    Elisa Allo

balloon in the sky . . .
on daddy’s shoulders
the whole world
    Elisa Allo

summer vacation
a shooting star
crosses the sky
    Eufemia Griffo

playing bride
grandmother’s necklace
around my neck
    Eufemia Griffo

washing day —
the blanket no longer smells
of mamma
    Geethanjali Rajan

a brother leaves home —
his rock albums
now mine
    Geethanjali Rajan

waking up
to a familiar sound —
grandpa’s baritone OM
    Geethanjali Rajan

old tyre swing
deshaping
the full moon
    Hifsa Ashraf

paperboat
in the rain puddle
mom’s old prescription
    Hifsa Ashraf

flying paper kites
with no strings attached
childhood daydreaming
    Hifsa Ashraf

homeschooled
tucking away the blues
in origami
    Jackie Chou

inside a snow globe
a white Christmas
for the deer and me
    Jackie Chou

turtle funeral
a box set gently
on outgoing tide
    Jay Friedenberg

dinner time . . .
snow falls quietly
into angel imprints
    Jay Friedenberg

RMS Titanic
my plastic model sinks
into Long Island sound
    Jay Friedenberg

only child / part-time twin . . .
my parents’ friends’ son
five days older than i
    Jill Lange

so many days spent
in the weeping willow
my dog nearby
    Jill Lange

my backyard sandbox
popular with friends
and local cats
    Jim Mazza

held in his arms
my father rocks me
until my fever breaks
    Jim Mazza

dreams of my dead father
we sit by a lake
he takes my hand
    Jim Mazza

bob dylan
the times they are a-changin’
vietnam
    Jo Balistreri

filching
the thrill of not being caught
with grandpa’s rhubarb
    Jo Balistreri

playing marbles —
yellow cat’s eye shooter
the boys envy me
    Jo Balistreri

wobbling on two wheels
until confidence
brings balance
    Joan Leotta

writing my name with sparklers
on the night sky —
how long will it remain?
    Joan Leotta

tracing
my father’s face
with my fingertips
    Joan McNerney

hide and seek
under
the stairwell
    Joan McNerney

taking care
within the lines
colouring a jungle
    Joanna Ashwell

scooping out
the melted chocolate
rice-crispie crunch
    Joanna Ashwell

panda bear
whispering goodnight
to the bedbugs
    Joanna Ashwell

my first straight-A report card
for once I take
the shortest way home
    John J. Dunphy

holy communion —
the only time I’m not punished
for sticking out my tongue
    John J. Dunphy

carnival —
testing the water balloons
a week before
    Jorge Alberto Giallorenzi

basketball game —
the leather ball
punctured again
    Jorge Alberto Giallorenzi

muddy street —
making small cakes
to celebrate a new doll
    Julia Guzman

English class —
mocking the teacher’s voice
in her absence
    Julia Guzman

the seashell
that walked away —
hermit crab
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

school field trip —
losing my tooth
in an apple
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

mother’s roses . . .
we name the orange one
Fred
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

five years old
on a sunlit yellow page
my first poem    
    Kath Abela Wilson

planning for
33 children
my list of names
    Kath Abela Wilson

salty air windy bay
in my hand the hot
ferry boat pretzel
    Kath Abela Wilson

typing a poem
loving the clack the keys make
as I find myself
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

first diary, age 12
locking it after I write
that Bobby kissed me
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

dressing my old cat
in doll clothes, wheeling the pram
down Meadowbrook Drive
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

puffs of smoke
from my candy cigarette
sugar high
    Kristen Lindquist

midwinter dusk
crunching not sucking
the lemon drops
    Kristen Lindquist

clear and cold
skating infinities
across the lake
    Kristen Lindquist

backyard mango tree
I try to pluck
the day moon
    Lakshmi Iyer

running after father
I follow the shooting star . . .
handmade lantern
    Lakshmi Iyer

giggling
at the touch of mimosa
morning walk
    Lisbeth Ho

fireflies
lead the way —
homecoming
    Lisbeth Ho

hearts
our blunt-edged scissors
learn to cut
    Lorraine A. Padden

goldfish funeral
my best friend
next to the hamster
    Lorraine A. Padden

kitchen drawer
I dig for mom’s recipes
and find acorns
    Lorraine A. Padden

listening closely
grandma teaches me the name
of every flower
    Lucia Cardillo

August sea . . .
small crabs prisoners
in my bucket
    Lucia Cardillo

in the dark
the sure hand of my father . . .
fireflies and stars
    Lucia Cardillo

summer holidays
throwing back my voice
grandparents’ unused well
    Madhuri Pillai

interstate train journey —
the same food
in different flavours
    Madhuri Pillai

grandfather’s smile . . .
Buddha-like
his gentle face
    Madhuri Pillai

first allowance
dad and I build a fence
together
    Marianne Paul

mother’s fantasies —
she wants me to become
a TV weather girl
    Marianne Paul

power play
my big sister makes me
kiss her foot
    Marianne Paul

hospital table
a toy horse
with no name
    Marietta McGregor

painted ladies
my shell collection
back in the sea
    Marietta McGregor

5 cents
lemonade
with no lemons
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

marbles
a new galaxy
enters the ring
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

bed frolic
mom’s wedding ring quilt
loses a ring
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

hand-me-downs
another hole
in my sock
    Marilyn Fleming

Saturdays
inch of water
in the bath
    Marilyn Fleming

holy water
from a livestock cup
I bless myself
    Marilyn Fleming

father’s yodel
echoes across pasture
milking time    
    Marilyn Humbert

rusty tin roof
morning tea with dolls
in the crawl space
    Marilyn Humbert

dipping green tomato slices
in the flour-seasoning
the dust in grandma’s kitchen
    Maya Daneva

helping grandpa fish
I catch a butterfly
with his fish net
    Maya Daneva

harvest moon
so angry at grandpa
for cutting sunflower heads
    Maya Daneva

4th of July!
darkness not darkening
quickly enough
    Michael Smith

Bambi at the drive-in
even Dad
cried
    Michael Smith

ice cream motivation —
I take out
the garbage
    Michael Smith

library outings
an orange-frosted donut
on the way back home
    Mimi Foyle

rousted out of bed
in the middle of the night
to see an eclipse
    Mimi Foyle

father-daughter time
on the front lawn on our backs
watching cloud-landscapes
    Mimi Foyle

homecoming —
even the river’s rocks
less jagged
    Mirela Brailean

the old porch —
grandpa’s war stories
still fresh
    Mirela Brailean

just the wind
over the scratches —
orphanage yard
    Mirela Brailean

pretending I found
the four-leaf clover
I made
    Miriam Sagan

it’s a circus!
my little sisters still
follow my orders
    Miriam Sagan

every night I fly
over copper beeches
in my dreams
    Miriam Sagan

recaptured garter snake
math teacher
less excited
    Nancy Shires

around my muffin
a smile
of grapes
    Nancy Shires

drumming our bellies
to make mom think
we’re out of bed
    Nancy Shires

North Star
in the gloaming
papa’s voice
    Neena Singh

even in Lucknow
longing for Lucknow
the old guava tree
    Neena Singh

Nonno’s wood stove
orange peels curl
into morning
    Pat Davis

in line by age
we get the polio shot
in our kitchen
    Pat Davis

cramped apartment
a box of treasures
under my bed
    Pat Davis

down caverns with granddad . . .
my stalactite
in a matchbox
    Paul Beech

standing on our heads
kid bro and I ponder
the opposite sex
    Paul Beech

first grade photos
he saves his big one
for me
    Pris Campbell

scuppernong season
we stand by the ripened vine
sucking and spitting
    Pris Campbell

upside down world
I hang by my heels
from the pecan tree
    Pris Campbell

mother sings
whatever will be will be
ironing undershirts
    Ron Scully

first baseman’s glove
instead of the catcher’s mitt
all the difference
    Ron Scully

my childhood pets
an old chicken and its
many chicks
    Rosa Clement

fishing days
grandpa always told us
the same stories
    Rosa Clement

remembering
all the baths I took
in the spring rain
    Rosa Clement

straddling the tree branch
and a new feeling —
captain of my ship
    Ruth Yarrow

dawn
cowpie up between my toes
warm
    Ruth Yarrow

sharing milk
with my favorite teddy
his sour nose
    Ruth Yarrow

last in the
race again
sports day
    Sherry Grant

camping
by the river
the fire wouldn’t start
    Sherry Grant

plink plinkplinkplink plink
mom and I
shell peas for supper
    Sue Norvell

learning to count by two’s
I chant the numbers
all the way home
    Sue Norvell

after dad left
our little blue house
bluer
    Susan Burch

sneezing fit —
never mowing
the yard again    
    Susan Burch

beach bummed
leaving the turtle I found
where I found it
    Susan Burch

brussels sprouts . . .
running away from home
across the street
    Theresa A. Cancro

rose hips swaying our hula hoops
    Theresa A. Cancro

first day of vacation . . .
the glow of jellyfish
beyond the pier
    Theresa A. Cancro
    
my hand gently
caresses her face
(i knew i wasn’t straight)
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

recurring nightmare
the wolf licks his lips
beside my bed
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

teenage rebellion
i crush the cig with my
steel-toe combat boots
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

tractor, hay wagon
sister, brother high on top
child driving is me
    Tina Wright

the cow Chocolate
who walked under hot fence wire
like it was nothin
    Tina Wright

finger painting
roses on the window
snow day
    Tom Bierovic

rope swing
moonlight going up
shadows coming down
    Tom Bierovic

in the back seat
between my sister and me
an imaginary line
    Tom Clausen

my fortune
collecting bottles
from the ditch
    Tom Clausen

neighbor’s barn
playing doctor . . .
we all need operations
    Tom Clausen

open window
after summer rain
mom cuts a dress-up doll for me
    Vibeke Laier

summer holidays
grandfather shows me
the joy of a library book
    Vibeke Laier

summer silence
gathering stones
at sunset
    Vibeke Laier

the street
of my childhood —
not a single stop sign
    Vladislav Hristov

hide and seek
I’m uncovered
by a ray of light
     Vladislav Hristov

school excursion
scent fills the bus —
grandma’s apple pie
    Wieslaw Karlinski

weedy garden
trying to recall
my botany teacher
    Wieslaw Karlinski

my playhouse
a branch
in the apple tree
    Wilda Morris

last one chosen again kicking weeds in the outfield
    Wilda Morris

ball & jacks
always losing
to my cousins
    Wilda Morris

playing squash outside
against the wall
just me and the ball
    Yvonne Fisher

I stayed inside
daydreaming
fame and fortune
    Yvonne Fisher

jumping rope
I knew
I could fly
    Yvonne Fisher

roller skating
to a different planet
just around the corner
    Zee Zahava

proud Brownie
wearing my beanie
like a crown
    Zee Zahava

new crayons
hidden under my pillow —
i refuse to share
    Zee Zahava



Tuesday, June 1, 2021

sound / no sound

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

The theme of this month’s collection is sound (and the absence of sound).

Poems arrived from Australia, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, New Zealand, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, Switzerland, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and the United States


golden maize field . . .
a lone scarecrow puffs
in the wind
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

mime artist
i can hear
his laughter
    ai li

i am bursting balloons
    ai li

empty house
the
old floorboards
    ai li

desert canyon
the endless whisper
of blowing sand
    Al W Gallia

one loud fly in the
Church of Santo Stefano
finally comes to rest
    Alan Bern

ongoing opera
quarrel
next door
    Alexis Rotella

soccer stadium trembles
in unison the mob cries
— goal!
    Amauri Solon

silence . . .
in my drawing
no sign of rain
    Ana Drobot

sultry night —
the noise of the city
enters my bedroom
    Angela Giordano

my neighbors keep
their car engines running
no! it’s the cicadas’ song
    Antonia Matthew

ringing phone
my granddaughter calls
with one more joke
    Barbara Kaufmann

he learns to shift
into fifth gear
prayer beads click
    Barbara Sabol

thwack
the butcher knife slices
a watermelon
    Barbara Sabol

the old bookstore
the silence of his absence
dusty thoughts
    Barbara Tate

in the shallows
polliwogs dart silently
from my shadow
    Barbara Tate

and then the sound
of an ice cream truck
— I pat my pockets
    Bill Waters

low battery —
trying to silence
the wrong smoke alarm
    Bill Waters

visual drama
pantomimed
tv sound turned off
    Blue Waters

too late to practice . . .
the mouthpiece alone
becomes my horn
    Blue Waters

song sparrows
my journal pages
fill with poems
    Brad Bennett

slurping
her soup from a spoon —
our only date
    Bryan Rickert

wildflower breeze
the silent dance
of butterflies
    Bryan Rickert

radio whispers
keep me company
all day
    C. Robin Janning

mocking bird
at the car wash hip hopping
to the radio
    Carole Johnston

violets whisper
haiku to the grass
cool evening
    Carole Johnston

before & after
the funeral
blackbird song
    Caroline Skanne

nearly full moon
tuning the guitar
by ear
    Caroline Skanne

neighbors bickering
I turn up the volume
of my inner voice
    Chen-ou Liu

deep autumn . . .
the cacophony
of leaf blowers
    Chen-ou Liu

distant hum
deep in the rainforest
illegal logging
    Christina Chin

pepper plants
out on the patio
the soft flip of their leaves
    Christina Martin

pitch black
my daughter calls out
“Momma”
    Christina Sng

grandma’s
last breath
the still wind
    Christina Sng

my sobs
as I stroke her paws
day moon
    Claire Vogel Camargo

somewhere
it is going to rain
wind chime
    Daniela Misso

red embers
crackle in the fireplace . . .
one more page
    Daniela Misso

days shorten
the clatter of dried peas
in a blackened pot
    Debbie Strange

glacial stare the way we retreat into ourselves
    Debbie Strange

distant bark
a murmuration of sheep
moves as one
    Debbie Strange

singing to the myrtle
its branches sway rhythmically
no shame in being off key
    Deborah Burke Henderson

magnolia blossoms fall
chimes ring softly and more softly . . .
for my sister
    Deborah Burke Henderson

a tiny spider
in the shower
her tarantula scream    
    Deborah P Kolodji

illegal fireworks
explode the night
wolf moon
    Deborah P Kolodji

hello
from behind a mask . . .
her eyes
    Donna Fleischer

swimming lessons —
children’s giggles
in the locker room
    Elisa Allo

twilight
the silence
between us
    Eufemia Griffo

mosquito night
slapping myself
in my sleep
    Florin C. Ciobica

harvest season —
the tinkle of bells
from a decorated ox
    Geethanjali Rajan

post-quarantine
the long creak
of the garden gate
    Geethanjali Rajan

from flower to flower
to my ear
the honeybee
    Glenn Ingersoll

blowin’
in the wind . . .

the busker’s rolling tobacco tin
    Helen Buckingham

owl’s hoot
through a scarecrow’s mouth
old family farm
    Hifsa Ashraf

a quiet morning
violets sparkle with dew
the sun is rising
    Isabelle Loverro

winter morning
my daydream cut
by a crow’s caw
    Jackie Chou

the clonk of pool balls
in the group home lounge
spring melancholy
    Jackie Chou

in a hurry
grocery shopping —
the squeaky cart
    Jill Lange

library entrance
the lapping tongues of puppies
at a silver bowl
    Jo Balistreri

egrets first light thump of the newspaper
    Jo Balistreri

midnight crash
of an oriole feeder
jelly-faced raccoons
    Jo Balistreri

silent snails
leave an easy trail
to follow
    Joan Leotta

seagulls
lined up at the shoreline
listening to waves
    Joan Leotta

an outdoor concert
which is sweeter
the flute or bird song?
    Joan McNerney

this too
could be our song
clock chimes
    Joanna Ashwell

dandelion burrs
carrying the rhythm
of thunder
    Joanna Ashwell

perhaps
I heard something
in the turning tide
    Joanna Ashwell

still-life art class
drawn by the fruit bowl
buzzing flies
    John J. Dunphy

past bedtime
deciding not to interrupt
their laughter
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

not the call
I’m expecting —
seagull
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

my zaghareeting
the loo~loo~loo I learned
from my daughter
    Kath Abela Wilson

zills on my fingers
and bells on my toes
my egyptian mama
    Kath Abela Wilson

ticking kitchen clock
disturbs my Scrabble focus
where to put my Q
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

trilling
as if they were birds . . .
tiny river frogs
    kris moon

a crackling of paper . . .
the cat sidesteps
across the desk
    kris moon

yellow warbler
the real bird singing
or my ringtone
    Kristen Lindquist

spring snow
me and a titmouse
both kind of whiny
    Kristen Lindquist

loud sneeze
the sleeping child's
half-open eyes
    Lakshmi Iyer

buzzing bees . . .
scent of lavender
on my hands
    Lucia Cardillo

late night call
a voice from my childhood
still sounds the same
    Madhuri Pillai

Mother’s Day
a swan warns
its cygnets
    Marietta McGregor

one chorister
wavers on a C
midwinter
    Marietta McGregor

steady beat
hacky sacks jump
into spring
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

poolside
the sizzle of popsicles
dripping on pavement
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

creaking of swings
three generations
reach for the stars
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

a violet haze
of river dawn —
oars in the water
    Marilyn Fleming

endless drought
across barren plains
the curlew’s mourning cry
    Marilyn Humbert

noonday heat
deep in the valley the ringing
of an axe
    Mark Miller

so quiet
the moon climbs
a roof
    Marta Chocilowska

critical conversation
in my head
dad’s chopping wood
    Maya Daneva

lip liner
helping my husband
read my lips
    Maya Daneva

meditation bell
I wake
up
    Michael G. Smith

again I ask
my widowed mom
to change her phone message
    Michael G. Smith

treebuds bursting
along the school fence
crack of ball and bat
    Michael G. Smith

biking down the block
playing card clipped to my wheels
feeling pretty smug
    Mimi Foyle

ping! ping! ping! ping! ping!
dozens of spoons beat nickels
primary school fad
    Mimi Foyle

first thunder —
a few missed notes
in lark’s song
    Mirela Brailean

whistling tea kettle
that turned into a badger —
what I thought was true
    Miriam Sagan

better than
small talk —
monarch butterflies
    Miriam Sagan

a dry sound
windchimes
in drought
    Miriam Sagan

dad's harmonica
a train's whistle
in the distance
    Pat Davis

snowy woods
where birds hide
their song
    Pat Davis

a schoolboy gymnast
I climb the long rope
to ping the brass bell
    Paul Beech

this loneliness . . .
the blinds parted just enough
to hear the rain    
    Pragya Vishnoi

dragonfly night the hum of the refrigerator
    Pragya Vishnoi

a calf’s moo
nuzzling its mother’s neck
parting fog
    Pragya Vishnoi

dance recital
we clatter across the stage
for captive moms
    Pris Campbell

howling snow
seeks out the last crack
garage door open
    Ron Scully

yoga lesson
a magpie violates
the rule of silence
    Rosa Clement

a bird sings
from my clothes line —
I can wait
    Rosa Clement

lullaby
the boy frees the teddy bear
from a hug
    Rosa Clement

lost
we huddle around the trail map
mosquito whine
    Ruth Yarrow

turnip seeds slither
into the paper envelope
grampa’s whisper
    Ruth Yarrow

parrot squawks
teaching first child
to talk
    Sherry Grant

shore wash
the evening whispers
of pebbles and shells
    Simon Hanson

anxiety my feet conduct a symphony
    Susan Burch

giant winter sky
the peal of church bells
gives way to tinnitus
    Ted Sherman

golden evening
the sound-system
ripples my cider
    Ted Sherman

warm wool sweater . . .
familiar scratches
on the old 45
    Theresa A. Cancro

caterwaul
in the ripple of a puddle
the full moon
    Theresa A. Cancro

children’s giggles . . .
soft moss
between my toes
    Theresa A. Cancro

a robin then a wren
oh how i love
this sticky dawn
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

she plays
a song from childhood
out-of-tune piano
    Tom Bierovic

barking back
at the neighbor's dog
lost in translation
    Tom Bierovic

by myself
working out what
not to say
    Tom Clausen

at my parents’ stone
I whisper
you brought me here
    Tom Clausen

spring wind —
a kid in the neighborhood
has a new whistle
    Tom Clausen

copper kettle
the salty scent of corn
pop-pop-popping
    Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

creaks and squeaks
my knees synchronize
with the floorboards
    Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

summer music
holding a conch shell
to my ear
    Vibeke Laier

doorbell
new postage stamp
in my collection
    Wieslaw Karlinski

leaky muffler
instead of alarm clock
first morning bus
    Wieslaw Karlinski

outdoor graduation
wind ensemble’s notes
blown away
    Wilda Morris

still longing
for grandmother’s voice
after all these years
    Wilda Morris

rain all day long
the sound of sorrow
we cuddle up
    Yvonne Fisher

what is the sound of purple?
my dear sister
it is your deepest laugh
    Zee Zahava





Saturday, May 1, 2021

edible haiku

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

The theme of this month’s collection is edible haiku. Enjoy the feast!

Poems arrived from Australia, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, New Zealand, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, Switzerland, the United Kingdom, and the United States 



mango season
sharing pleasure
with flies
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

bing cherries
one kissed
my lips
    ai li

fruit cake
your recipe
died with you
    ai li

picking up crumbs
seeing you doing the same
all those years past
    Alan Bern

warm bread —
you hold me
on the back deck
    Alan Bern

low slung river
thoughts of home
and lemon trout
    Alan Summers

pot luck dinner
another box
of chocolates
    Alexis Rotella

granddaughter’s joy
cotton candy
all over her face
    Amauri Solon

pomegranate —
my first lesson about
the red planet
    Ana Drobot

mom’s black cherry cupcakes
bitter-sweet taste
never forgotten
    Angela Giordano

toasted almonds
my granddaughter is greedy —
tender kisses
    Angela Giordano

landlocked Indiana
can’t find a decent kipper
anywhere
    Antonia Matthew

spring opening
my favorite farm stand
packed with arugula
    Barbara Kaufmann

slowing down
this year I plant
a little less basil
    Barbara Kaufmann

driftwood
the sizzle of marshmallows
at midnight
    Barbara Tate

wabi? sabi?
I scratch my head
and eat some wasabi
    Bill Waters

summer woods . . .
beneath the leaf mold
mushrooms
    Bill Waters

broken chocolate squares
shape-shift into sunflowers
on my yellow plate
    Blue Waters

last drops . . .
the end of a row
of rainbow chard
    Brad Bennett

winter dawn
spreading blackberry jam
to the crusts
    Brad Bennett

beans
straight from the can
this solitude
    Bryan Rickert

deli order
a little Yiddish
goes a long way
    Bryan Rickert

peanut butter
after all these years
adding jelly
    C. Robin Janning

rice . . .
how the earth grows
dinner
    C. Robin Janning

grating carrots
even my scraped knuckles
are zen
    Carole Johnston

we drive twenty miles
winding down the river for
Shaker lemon pie
    Carole Johnston

ice cream
rum raisin and ginger
that day in New Hope
    Carole Johnston

morning light
slipping a lychee fruit
out of its skin
    Caroline Skanne

tenth year of exile
the mixed smell of dark coffee
and Chinese fried dough
    Chen-ou Liu

quarantine breakfast
my kids practice sword fighting
with baguettes
    Chen-ou Liu

fruit salad
in bechamel sauce
the taste of raw celery
    Christina Chin

travel gifts
the caramel aroma
of strawberry mochi
    Christina Chin

fragrance of mother
dill potatoes
herring
    Christina Martin

splash of orange
headlight nasturtium
party salad
    Christina Martin

eyes closed
on my hot cross bun
proper butter
    Christina Martin

childhood cereal
reading the box
like a newspaper
    Christina Sng

love or hate
there is no in-between
durians
    Christina Sng

nonverbal fight
the hard chopping
of carrots
    Christine L. Villa

day moon
cilantro-lime marinade
on everything
    Claire Vogel Camargo

quiet evening
chestnuts grumble
in the pan
    Daniela Misso

garden solitude
only the hidden eyes
of seed potatoes
    Debbie Strange

our neighbor
feeds it while we’re gone . . .
sourdough starter
    Debbie Strange

autumn flames
we gather rose hips
for our muesli
    Debbie Strange

root cellar
the darkness lit
by jelly jars
    Debbie Strange

street corn
tourists’ wrists
drip with butter
    Deborah Burke Henderson

dining en plein air
yellow jackets hover . . .
syrup on my elbow
    Deborah Burke Henderson

surfside tacos
the roar
of motorcycles
    Deborah P Kolodji

crystal dish
on a torn lace tablecloth
pickled crab apples
    Deborah P Kolodji

al fresco —
fly on the menu
be careful
    Donna Fleischer

false promises —
the pizza dough
is not rising
    Elisa Allo

birthday cake . . .
the chocolate scent
hangs over the roses
    Elisa Allo

thanksgiving day
my father lets me carve
the turkey
    Florin C. Ciobica

before the trip
finishing the berries
in expired yogurt
    Glenn Ingersoll

the old granola bar
won’t be going
on this trip
    Glenn Ingersoll

gallery salad bar —
he draws the line
at nasturtiums
    Helen Buckingham

cod and chips
reduced to chips
a post-lockdown gull frenzy
    Helen Buckingham

breaking a fast
the aroma of desi roti
from window to window
    Hifsa Ashraf

morning sunlight
on a banana leaf
mango chutney
    Hifsa Ashraf

kneading flour
in each fold
her fading fingerprints
    Hifsa Ashraf

birds and butterflies
search fields for fruit and berries
spring rain soaks the farm
    Isabelle Loverro

ice cream shop offerings
my decision processes
still frozen
    Jay Friedenberg

in the hotel room
after our wedding . . .
chocolate covered strawberries!
    Jay Friedenberg

this almond —
the weight of
a honey bee
    Jill Lange

home alone eating less . . .
backyard birds
eating more
    Jill Lange

grateful for the bakery
always taking my orders
for hamantashen
    Jill Lange

flash of red among
green-black olives
lonely pimento
    Jim Mazza

all that remains
are the toothpicks —
pintxo memories
    Jim Mazza

salt-crusted sea bass
set aflame with raki
table-side floorshow
    Jim Mazza

retired guys chewing
on politics and donuts
neighborhood diner
    Jo Balistreri

first tomato slice of summer
a welcome bullseye
on my open-face sandwich
    Joan Leotta

community food bank
each banana comes with
free fruit flies
    John J. Dunphy

fundamentalist church potluck
pastor removes
the deviled eggs
    John J. Dunphy

thunk of blackberries
in my metal pail —
the promise of pie
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

yet another attempt
at baked eggplant —
I dredge up a smile
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

open-air market
a faint whiff of cantaloupe
through my face mask
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

shared dessert
on the rose leaf a drop
of raspberry coulis
    Karen Hoy

printing each menu
on edible paper
appetizers
    Kath Abela Wilson

edible haiku
I write with icing
on the cupcakes
    Kath Abela Wilson

one omelet steaming
garlic and basil fragrance
lures the dinner guests
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

almost too cute to cook . . .
potato with eyelashes
& a toothy smile
    kris moon

ripe plums
picked under a half moon
I saved you some
    Kristen Lindquist

morning heat
more blueberries in my bowl
than cereal
    Kristen Lindquist

fogged in
craving pea soup
for lunch
    Kristen Lindquist

first birthday . . .
cherry blossom pink
icing on her cake
    Lakshmi Iyer

not confessing
at the checkout
grapes i ate while shopping
    Laurinda Lind

calico bass
the taste of the lake
i grew up on
    Laurinda Lind

exhausted by flavor
by the time i reach
the pit of the peach
    Laurinda Lind

steaming artichokes
the layers
of that marriage
    Laurinda Lind

ripe cherries . . .
dad only eats
the bruised ones
    Lucia Cardillo

the first white grape
from the garden . . .
a bee chases me
    Lucia Cardillo

after gym
detour to the supermarket . . .
sweet tooth
    Madhuri Pillai

more liqueur
than chocolate . . .
my secret stash
    Madhuri Pillai

growing up poor
potatoes and more
potatoes
    Marianne Paul

sizzling frying pan
mother’s love of burnt
burgers
    Marianne Paul

rest stop sandwich
swallows picking bugs
off hot fenders
    Marietta McGregor

Santa Monica Pier
hot dogs with a side
of razzle dazzle
    Marietta McGregor

the flavor
of a wild lawn
dandelion greens
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

tugging my sleeve
as if to remind me
wild raspberries
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

bowl of kumquats
the bitter and
the sweet
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

late summer
the last plump tomato
picked from the vine
    Marilyn Humbert

birthday cake
candles dripping wax . . .
minutes pass into days
    Marilyn Humbert

campfire coals
the smoky aroma
of caught trout
    Mark Miller

fish & chips
peeking with one eye
a seagull
    Marta Chocilowska

all is lost
you think and suddenly
a fudge cake
    Marta Chocilowska

Nepalese dal bhat —
lentils, rice, greens —
travel banned, I miss my friends
    Michael G. Smith

blending my
morning smoothie
and the news
    Michael G. Smith

barefooted children
spitting watermelon seeds
midsummer picnic
    Mimi Foyle

cooking
with my mother
please, can I lick the spoon?
    Olivier Schopfer

fruit cake
feeling like
a kid again
    Olivier Schopfer

crabapple jelly
one wild tree
one small batch
    Pat Davis

making popcorn
our conversation
lightens
    Pat Davis

tug-of-war
drumsticks
outnumbered by kids
    Pat Davis

a taste from
my blue-collar days —
sugared almonds
    Paul Beech

bonding time
fried green tomatoes
late at night
    Pris Campbell

caramel soufflé
he confesses his love
before it falls
    Pris Campbell

leaving tomorrow
we walk the tide line slurping
two-finger poi
    Pris Campbell

a thousand noodles
stir in the steaming bowl
the same folds
    Ron Scully

late innings
the smell of steamed hotdogs
and beer breath cheers
    Ron Scully

colorful cakes
a butterfly and I
window shopping
    Rosa Clement

cat procession
the girl goes in front
holding the sardines
    Rosa Clement

poet’s dry spell —
on the withered plant
the ripest tomato
    Ruth Yarrow

mountain windowsill
through the honey jar
sunset
    Ruth Yarrow

bunched up
in anxiety
bananas
    Sherry Grant

in thin slices
taste of the sea
— oyster omelette
    Sherry Grant

served up in sweet squares
childhood memories
— pineapple cakes
    Sherry Grant

summer camp lunchtime
spelling words out of
half-eaten pretzels
    Stacey Murphy

behind the pickles
lonely, mad, and forgotten
sour cream turns bitter
    Stacey Murphy

chili cook-off —
she spills the beans on my
secret ingredient
    Susan Burch

in the pancake batter a shapeless haiku
    Susan Burch

my name spelled wrong retirement cake
    Susan Burch

hot dog eating contest
I get sick
of competing with you
    Susan Burch

giant drops of rain
fried mushrooms
on toast
    Ted Sherman

winter morning
the gentle tap tap tap
of boiling eggs
    Ted Sherman

new friend
leaving the last
chocolate truffle
    Theresa A. Cancro

smooth jazz . . .
a slice of cantaloupe
off the knife
    Theresa A. Cancro

chilly morning
piercing the skin
of my cream of wheat
    Theresa A. Cancro

wild youth
i used to pull my
food from the earth
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

bowl of soup
when i just
need a hug
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

no regrets
i eat the whole
pint of ice cream
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

harvest moon
drips of persimmon
on her chin
    Tom Bierovic

all the kernels
that failed to pop
first dates
    Tom Bierovic

midday
for good measure
a spoonful of honey
    Tom Clausen

poached eggs
eye to eye with the waitress
“i like them runny”
    Tom Clausen

between meals
it comes down to
a few triscuits
    Tom Clausen

The Vampire Cookbook
recipes for blood sausage
without garlic
    Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

alphabet soup
“S” is for the curve
of a heron’s neck
    Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

dappled sunshine
zucchini blossoms
in the omelet
    Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

first wild strawberry
the memories i share
with my sister
    Vibeke Laier

a table for one
the sparrow picking up
my bread crumbs
    Vibeka Laier

mother piles sugar
on her mashed potatoes
Red Hat Society
    Wilda Morris

sloppy joe meat
in the waffle batter —
successful experiment
    Wilda Morris

the taste of
sweet summer raspberries
my mother singing opera
    Yvonne Fisher

pandemic Passover
no seder this year
matzo and butter
    Yvonne Fisher

big bowl of pasta
(in the dream)
tired of my low-carb diet
    Zee Zahava

animal cracker
biting off the tiger’s head
releases my roar
    Zee Zahava