brass bell: a haiku journal

Tuesday, February 1, 2022

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

Saturday, January 1, 2022

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

Wednesday, December 1, 2021

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

Monday, November 1, 2021

body haiku

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

The theme this month is body haiku

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

lazy afternoon
grandpa lets us play
with his Adam’s apple
   Adjei Agyei-Baah

eye contact
he was saying
we are kindred
   ai li

thinking about seeds in my dry hand the last ones blow off
   Alan Bern

half moon pose —
everyone laughs
at the wobbling leg
   Alan Peat

cloud-entangled bedclothes a secret of arms and legs night shining
   Alan Summers

shoulder to shoulder
strangers enter the subway
unmasked
   Alexis Rotella

beating hearts our first night together
   Ana Drobot

pumpkin cream
sweet loneliness
on my tongue
   Angela Giordano

bee sting —
on my aching hand
fresh ginger
   Angiola Inglese

the ditch after a summer rain red mud oozing between my toes
   Ann Carter

ringing doorbell
mother pinches my cheeks
before a first date
   Barbara Kaufmann

pile of bathing suits —
tossing her body
to the fitting room floor
   Barrie Levine

flip-flops in October —
the sparkle of
her toenails
   Bill Waters

euphonium
my lips on the mouthpiece
breath becomes music
   Blue Waters

lamplight yellows my midnight skin
   Brad Bennett

pebble beach
my toes clutching
infinity’s edge
   Bryan Rickert

these feet
slow to remember the dance . . .
hesitate
   C. Robin Janning

rising
bread dough —
my belly fat
   Carol Judkins

death poem . . .
all my scars
come with me
   Carole MacRury

dusklight
looking for the pen
behind my ear
   Caroline Skanne

turning up her nose
at the dog
turning up his leg
   Charles Trumbull

end of summer
the scent of ocean
still in her hair
   Chen-ou Liu

children
imitate tattoo
henna on their toes
   Christina Chin

49th birthday
barely enough hair
for a ponytail
   Christina Sng

a little fairy
with pink glitter on her face
first doorbell ring
   Claire Vogel Camargo

autumn sky
filling my eyes
with clouds
   Daniela Misso

cheek to cheek        Valentine’s Day tango
   Deborah Burke Henderson

fanning out
our fingers
nail salon
   Deborah P Kolodji

flea market
I constantly scratch
my beard
   Florin C. Ciobica

doctor’s visit
grandma’s frail fingers
tighten on my wrist
   Geethanjali Rajan

first baking —
on the kitchen window
her moonlit handprints
   Hifsa Ashraf

first date
he notices the dirt
under my nails
   Jackie Chou

river bend
the smooth curve of stone
against my palm
   Jay Friedenberg

awakening to warmth
little cat is curled
against my back
   Jill Lange

pulling in my belly
hurts my back —
better round than achy
   Jim Mazza

my nose rejects
your perfume
forgive me as I change seats
   Joan Leotta

odd how my
fingernails
curl under
   Joan McNerney

if only
my shadow’s finger
could link with another
   Joanna Ashwell

barefoot in the creek —
minnows scatter
under the rocks
   Joe Sebastian

VA hospital
two veterans arm-wrestle
with prosthetic limbs
   John J. Dunphy

her bent back —
grandmother blows out
her birthday candles
   Jorge Giallorenzi

how I learned
to wiggle my nose
our pet rabbit
   Kath Abela Wilson

purple-red —
the bruise on my hand
confirms my years
   Kathleen Kramer

my old lap cat
now leans against my bare feet
rubbing her own ears
   Katya Sabaroff Taylor

autumn deepens
i see the world
in a friend’s eyes
   kris moon

saltwater farm
the wind in my hair
when I was a horse
   Kristen Lindquist

systole & diastole . . .
heart beats in pace
with the clock’s tick
   Lakshmi Iyer

my thefts, age three
Mounds bar in one hand
Baby Ruth in the other
   Laurinda Lind

bone scan
a long smile detected
in the office light
   Lovette Carter

autumn photo . . .
with my fingers I caress
his memory
   Lucia Cardillo

lying again the twitch in his eye
   Madhuri Pillai

eyelids droop
near the end
of the chapter
   Margaret Walker

small act of kindness
a doctor stoops
to pull socks on my feet
   Marianne Paul

eightieth birthday
my aunt dyes her hair
with cold black tea
   Marietta McGregor

head over heels sakura
   Marilyn Ashbaugh

haiku dream —
fingers tapping
the bed sheet
   Marilyn Fleming

the curve
in his spine weeding
sickle moon
   Marilyn Humbert

lonely vacation
a new supply of back scratchers
from the gift shop
   Marta Chocilowska

long to-do list
first I stretch
my shoulders
   Maya Daneva

your cold feet on a winter’s night I miss the most
   Michael Flanagan

vaccine shot
sore arm
the leaves pile up
   Michael G. Smith

a miracle
to walk freely on both legs
unencumbered
   Mimi Foyle

the steady beat of my heart
up to the top —
mountain view
   Mirela Brailean

around my neck
papa’s old muffler
winter warmth
   Neena Singh

wrinkle free
her ninety-year-old
smile
   Pat Davis

my apprentice days
in a tough trade —
skinned knuckles
   Paul Beech

broken shoulder
the embarrassment
of bathroom visits
   Pris Campbell

flowery dress
a butterfly lands
on my right arm
   Rosa Clement

turning
my deaf ear to the pillow
sudden robin song
   Ruth Yarrow

snoring —
the waves rise
on dad’s belly
   Sherry Grant

vision loss
another traffic camera
I thought was a bird
   Susan Burch

gnarled fingers tracing gold kintsugi
   Theresa A. Cancro

upon my eyelashes
the remnants
of forgotten stars
   Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

my friend in her eighties
cursing her thumbs
adjusting her bike helmet
   Tina Wright

ice cream jingle
untangling her feet
from a jump rope
   Tom Bierovic

my tongue
explores the space
missing tooth
   Tom Clausen

wellness exam
the doctor says
I lack a funny bone
   Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

mother’s herbarium
touching the first violet with
my fingertips
   Vibeke Laier

gloves
hide her scarred hands —
first snow
   Vladislav Hristov

hot sand
from hand to hand
summer passes
   Wieslaw Karlinski

itchy nose
he sneezes
himself awake
   Wilda Morris

your hands
so much like my grandmother’s hands . . .
i fell in love with you
   Zee Zahava

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