water haiku

Welcome to the August 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.


The theme of this month’s collection is “water.”

Contributing poets are from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, China, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, Malta, Pakistan, Philippines, Poland, Romania, Singapore, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, the United States, and Wales    


koi —
the pond’s smile
in one bubble
    Adjei Agyei-Baah   

a leak
my roof
crying
    ai li

hose on
discovering water’s pressure
tiny grandson
    Alan Bern

raining
and raining
a swan’s folded neck
    Alan Peat

live cam
four different views
of the rain
    Alan Peat

the ghost lines
of offshore turbines
flickering moon
    Alan Summers

dust devils running from the rain
    Alexis Rotella

puddle —
the reflected moon
vibrates in the wind
    Angela Giordano

cut roses
in a glass beaker
broken stems
    Angiola Inglese

swimming in the great lake sturgeon moon
    Barbara Sabol

summer camp
bound by no boundaries
the old fishing hole
    Barbara Tate Sayre

foot fountain —
leaving the sand
at the public beach
    Barrie Levine

swim team
all through school
my wet hair
    Barrie Levine  

pulling our blanket
out of the way . . .
afternoon tide
    Barrie Levine

in the standing water
two children
standing
    Bill Waters

endlessly
the fountain
shooting skyward
    Bill Waters

picking up a pebble the river after
    Billy Antonio

more rain
after the rain
bamboo forest
    Billy Antonio

wanting to spit
like Kansas cowboys —
practicing my aim intently
    Blue Waters

eighteenth hole
a puddle of snowmelt
in the plastic sled
    Brad Bennett

watering the garden
except the monarchs
and painted ladies
    Bryan D. Cook

sudden rain
pill bugs from out
of nowhere
    Bryan Rickert

muting the trumpet flowers morning rain
    Bryan Rickert

dialing down
my blood pressure . . .
hot springs
    Carol Judkins

lavender rain
my purple umbrella
dripping
    Carole Johnston

in and out
of the sprinkler’s spray
hummingbird
    Carole MacRury

departing geese —
a bit of the lake
still on their wings
    Carole MacRury

sweltering heat
the weight of wasps
on duckweed
    Caroline Skanne

monks’ ferry rope
frozen
in the river ice
    Charles Trumbull

prolonged drought
throwing stones in the pond
without a splash
    Chen Xiaoou

moonlight lapping
against the Pacific shore
the home left behind
    Chen-ou Liu

snorkeling
among the seagrass
a scallop shoots up
    Christina Chin    

after a run        my cat licks my arm
    Christina Sng

liberation
her first test
of an outdoor shower
    Christine Wenk-Harrison

imagining
living where once there was
the Permian Sea
    Claire Vogel Camargo

dog days
the only fountain
in the park
    C.R. Harper

calving glacier
i decide when
to let go
    Debbie Strange

the Buddha
contemplates life —
reflection pool
    Deborah Burke Henderson

drips of sweat
on her cleavage
ice cubes swirl
    Donna Fleischer

fish bowl
in the cat’s iris
a guppy
    Elena Malec

wishing well
my coin
turns green
    Florin C. Ciobica

waterfall icicles hang like frozen fangs
    Frank Muller

glassy lake —
water skiing to the end
of summer
    Geoff Pope

where two rivers meet
we renew our vows . . .
tugboat horn
    Geoff Pope

next door’s lies
coiled in the grass
hosepipe ban
    Helen Buckingham

monsoon rain
simmering down
the stew of dals
    Hifsa Ashraf

watering my plants
I sometimes forget their names
they don’t seem to mind
    Jack Goldman

seaside picnic . . .
length of an eyeblink
porpoise fin
    Janice Doppler

long afternoon the slow drift of pond scum
    Jay Friedenberg

sipping water
before my blood test
whirlpool in my stomach
    Jenna Le

back strokin’
at the neighborhood pool
the new person i become
    Jill Lange

today this t-shirt
words of a favorite teacher
“go as a river”
    Jill Lange

first college exam
sweating the outcome
of the freshman swim test
    Jim Mazza

dad says “swim!” —
my arms move but
toes remain on stones
    Joan Leotta

kitchen sink
the pop of bubbles
all around us
    Joanna Ashwell    

summer showers
more gulls land on the
cricket field
    Joe Sebastian

testing     testing     a new baby’s bath water
    Joel Savishinsky

drought water-rationing
I fill my birdbath
with Evian
    John J. Dunphy

floating out to sea our frisbee
    John J. Dunphy

used-book store
owner empties
a bucket of rain
    John J. Dunphy

rain on the wind chimes
even the snails
listening
    John Pappas

another autumn
old rowboat
filling up with rain
    John Pappas

birthday —
mom’s vase
with very little water
    Jorge Alberto Giallorenzi

upslope fog
the Atlantic swallows
Backbone Mountain
    Joshua St. Claire

beach day —
the children’s laughter
louder than the waves
    Julia Guzman

mom wrote
her name on water
lily of the Nile
    Kath Abela Wilson

family picnic
dad rowed the boat
at Wolf’s Pond Park
    Kath Abela Wilson

another hot day
twelve guernsey cows
wade in the river
    Kathleen Kramer

today, needing to be empty
i went to the lake and wept
until i was
    Kathleen Kramer

sometimes all I need
is a rippling summer pond
and one white egret
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

the pond where the moon sleeps all day
    kris moon kondo

all my tears
let them make
a pond
    kris moon kondo

either sky or ocean the first blue puzzle piece
    Kristen Lindquiet

rusted water fountain . . .
the pigeons keep pecking
inside the nozzle
    Lakshmi Iyer

mosquito hatcheries
the puddles
that never dry
    Laurinda Lind

occasional drizzle
ink landing
in the right place
    Lorraine A Padden

park walk
the dog brings in the puddle
drip by drip
    Madhuri Pillai

the damp spots
on father’s forehead and shirt
holy water
    Marcie Wessels

dry forecast
stonecrop
in the withered lake
    Marcie Wessels

ocean’s timelessness
sand castle’s impermanence
my footprints between
    Margaret Fisher Squires

another puddle
mud pies
on the menu
    Margaret Walker

the wake
of a pelican’s landing
his wide grin
    Marilyn Humbert        

long rain
the great grey slugs
crawl out
    Marta Chocilowska

washed up
without a song
moon shell
    Mary Kendall

icy rain —
somehow this ache
just won’t leave
    Mary Kendall

half-dried swamp
the spatterdock still
in full bloom
    Maya Daneva

again
but with stronger words
receding wave
    Maya Daneva

I stop shaking this snow globe       all becomes clear
    Michael Flanagan

wandering the beach
driftwood
suddenly scarce
    Michael Flanagan

city lake
camp kids practicing
whitewater kayak rolls
    Michael G. Smith       

tear-soaked
at the kitchen table
family history
    Mike Gallagher

temple bell
the bowl of water ripples
for a moment
    Milan Rajkumar

dew drop prisms flash
from spider’s web
sun-saturated
    Mimi Foyle

raindrops dangling from a papaya stem . . . . liquid moonstones
    Mimi Foyle

so much water
in the acequia
am I dreaming
    Miriam Sagan

walking in the rain
this half-rainbow
between us
    Neena Singh

a water lily
rises above itself . . .
meditation
    Neena Singh

incoming tide
the slow roll
of a new plan
    Pat Davis

wriggling
out of the mist
the heron and a fish
    Pat Davis

gulls squawk
the river flows on
beneath the castle ruins
    Paul Beech

the rock pool crab
meets me eye-to-eye
I back off
    Paul Beech

falling rain a pluviophile pulls on his boots
    Paul Callus

health gone
a different rolling sea
beneath my feet
    Pris Campbell

turning five
my neighbor’s goldfish
hit of the party
    Pris Campbell

lake fishing
snagging a kite
caught in a tree
    Richard Matta

summer heat
two wrens bathing
in a dog’s bowl
    Richard Matta

bathroom window —
a mockingbird’s song
joins me in the shower
    Robert Epstein

dewdrops on the tulips my aching heart
    Robert Epstein

walking the reservoir that woodpecker’s knock-knock-knock
    Robert Epstein

steaming
her wallpaper off
gran’s tea kettle
    Roberta Beach Jacobson

hauling water
making up verses
of shared songs
    Roberta Beach Jacobson

staycation ring around the bathtub
    Roberta Beach Jacobson

waterwheel
off the hotel lobby
check in / check out
    Ron Scully

deserted beach
waves take back
a few ghost crabs
    Rosa Clement

dreaming of a woman
trapped under water —
my leg in a cast
    Seretta Martin

first love jumping through sprinklers
    Susan Burch

summer improv shampoo bottle squirt guns
    Susan Burch

on mother’s death bed
a sponge bath
never had such intimacy
    Teresa Bakota Yatsko

drizzle . . .
so many
verbs to conjugate
    Theresa A. Cancro

an endless ocean
such are
the dreams of mine
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

new day
she goes around spritzing
each plant
    Tom Clausen

the way gravity
takes water over stones
creek song
    Tom Clausen

morning chores a puddle within a puddle
    Vandana Parashar

flotation tank
do I need to have
all the answers
    Vandana Parashar

hospital window
the rain meant for me
falls on the tree
    Vandana Parashar

full moon
a forest lake
with frozen stars
    Vibeke Laier

a pebble from the sea
with a trace of
lipstick
    Wieslaw Karlinski

summer breeze plastic bags blowing into the pond
    Wilda Morris

folksongs     the ‘60s     here come my tears again
    Zee Zahava

shallow pond
frog closes his eyes and
disappears
    Zee Zahava

sound / no sound

Welcome to the July 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

The theme of this month’s collection is “sound / no sound”


Contributing poets are from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, Malta, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, the United States, and Wales     


old barber
his scissors snip
around my ears
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

the hidden language of dentures
    ai li

desert wind . . .
the rusty windmill
squeals all night
    Al Gallia

a new crack in the twice-recast Liberty Bell
    Alan Bern

amplified in the bird box   bees
    Alan Peat

footsteps ring along a sidewalk the fog lifting
    Alan Summers

a monk
sounding the butterfly
out of the bell
    Alexis Rotella

written exam —
the silence interrupted by
a question
    Ana Drobot

silence reigns
in this empty house —
I miss you mom
    Angela Giordano

yellow zinnias —
the cell phone rings
inside the bag
    Angiola Inglese

argument settled
a single clink of her teaspoon
against the cup
    Barbara Sabol

solitude
dust gathers in his
empty room
    Barbara Tate Sayre

aisle seat
the click of the ticket punch
getting closer
    Barrie Levine

storm front!
up and down the street
mothers calling
    Bill Waters

loving to hear
what dad didn’t say —
long drives in his truck
    Blue Waters

whistling along Wyoming
    Brad Bennett

two-minute silence
at the cenotaph
a veteran weeps
    Bryan D. Cook

horror flick
the sloppy kiss
of the couple behind me
    Bryan Rickert

waking before birds
no song accompanies my
stumbling steps
    C. Robin Janning

magic forest
the tintinnabulation
of fairy bells
    Carol Judkins

thump thump thump
street basketball
long into the night
    Carole Johnston

sleeping in —
the silence
of the cat’s stare
    Carole MacRury

a foreign language:
I listen to the poem
just for its music
    Charles Trumbull

the clatter
of this rusty gate
foreclosure
    Chen-ou Liu

quietude . . .
phlox blossoms round
the stone Buddha
    Christina Chin

whisper of wool
nothing
but the crochet hook
    Christina Martin

crackling
my son’s voice
changing
    Christina Sng

tv yoga
static interrupts
shavasana
    Christine Wenk-Harrison

under covers
beneath an open window
angry voices
    Claire Vogel Camargo

five a.m. white-crowned sparrow’s etude
    C.R. Harper

that dog
he doesn’t know
why he’s barking
    David Watts

watersongs the differing frequencies of stones
    Debbie Strange

spirit totem
a swallowtail pulsates
around her cairn
    Deborah Burke Henderson

because snow quiet
because ancient sun and moon
the way hearts sing
    Donna Fleischer

flying
with no sound
origami plane
    Elena Malec

first thunder
my boy bursts
his balloon
    Florin C. Ciobica

waiting room —
the fidgety clicks
of someone’s pen
    Geethanjali Rajan

lead singer
1980s basement band —
hearing loss
    Geoff Pope

spring solitude
a chickadee’s thrum
from the knothole
    Hifsa Ashraf

my mother singing
along with the radio
tuned in to her dreams
    Jack Goldman

morning chill . . .
the squeak of his chalk
on the blackboard
    Jackie Chou

street performer
draws a crowd
the clink of coins
    Janice Doppler

spilled ice cream
the duck’s quacks
sound like laughter
    Jay Friedenberg

the whole room yells
“unmute yourself” as if
they care what he’s saying
    Jenna Le

beyond pine shadows
and crickets . . . the clop
clop of an Amish buggy
    Jill Lange

in between . . .
the krawk krawk krawk
of a pinyon jay
    Jo Balistreri

dancing to my own heartbeat
    Joan Leotta

songbirds
suddenly
I’m not alone
    Joanna Ashwell

burying our friend
we walk back singing that song
half-moon on gravesite
    Joel Savishinsky

the pause
after I ask
if she still loves me
    John J. Dunphy

catching my breath
the parp and wheeze
of an old bike horn
    John Pappas

frozen snow —
I hear
the loneliness
    Jorge Alberto Giallorenzi
    
the tern’s call the enormity of the sea
    Joshua St. Claire

ploughed fields
oxen mooing
under the ombu tree
    Julia Guzman

mature garden the squeak of an old wheelbarrow
    Karen Harvey

at the Shinto shrine
bow twice, clap twice, bow again
make a little wish
    Karla Linn Merrifield

finally getting the right tone singing bowl
    Kath Abela Wilson

80 years
of yankees’ games
turning the sound up now
    Kathleen Kramer

one hot June morning
blueberry meditation
orbs ping on brass bowl
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

harvest moon . . .
through the violet veiled night
my muse whispers
    kris moon

day lilies open wide . . .
loud laughter
from our neighbor’s party
    Kristen Lindquist

parched earth
a loud crack of thunder
from an earthen pot
    Lakshmi Iyer

so hard
not to slam
the door
    Laurinda Lind

morse coding climate change the fireflies
    Lorraine A. Padden

insomnia . . .
woodworm working
in the dark
    Lucia Cardillo

stale mint gum
the clank of a zipper
in the dryer
    Marcie Wessels

like a small distant
elephant trumpeting: fart
under the blankets
    Margaret Fisher Squires

sunday dinner
the children’s table
on the porch
    Margaret Walker

djembe
the throbbing heat
of summer
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

outback night
dingoes’ songs echo
across the gorge
    Marilyn Humbert

just married
joyful shivarees
all night long
    Marta Chocilowska

lyrics long forgotten
the melody always
in my mind
    Mary Kendall

sweet summer peach
 slurping the best bit from the pit
    Masha M.

summer heat
buzzing flies take refuge
in the basement
    Maya Daneva

in that sliver of blackness
between barn and moon
coyote calls his name
    Michael Flanagan

uncanny
his lawn mower knows
I meditate
    Michael G. Smith

talking
to his plate
alone
    Mike Gallagher

summer storm
all these silent talks
between you and me
    Milan Rajkumar

night walking alone
i miss the sweet harmonies
i no longer hear
    Mimi Foyle

family meal
from the other chair
the cat’s meow
    Mirela Brailean

bells chime the hour
uneven stepping stones
across the stream
    Miriam Sagan

wakeful child
humming an old lullaby
granny dozes
    Neena Singh

laughter
in every language
ESL class
    Pat Davis

recovery
the dog who lost its bark
finds it again
    Paul Beech

slight of hand —
in response to being duped
hearty applause
    Paul Callus

hearing loss
silence flows
from his moving lips
    Pris Campbell

seaside concert
the roars of seals
during pianissimo
    Richard L. Matta

dad’s death day —
a mourning dove coos
just enough comfort
    Robert Epstein

gentle rain . . .
sliding into the weekend
on wet leaves
    Roberta Beach Jacobson

mockingbird
knows what you want to hear
cedar waxwing
    Ron Scully

zen garden
the flapping wings
of a butterfly
    Rosa Clement

dune path —
just before the surf’s boom
we smell it
    Ruth Yarrow

Quaker meeting
a lone fly’s hum the only break
in the heat
    Sue Norvell

hiccups all the things I can’t control
    Susan Burch

the swish of the brush
dad’s shoe propped up
on his shoeshine box
    Teresa Bakota Yatsko

handlebar mustache
the way he rolls
his r’s
    Theresa A. Cancro

not even twilight can contain this silence
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

no one hears
the ocean
in my ears
    Tom Clausen

noisy tourists
a praying monk
rolls his eyes
    Vandana Parashar

midsummer rain
echo of thunder
in the conch shell
    Vibeke Laier

noisy tractor
goes silent for a moment
the lark song
    Wieslaw Karlinski

sore throat
after six hours
protest march
    Wilda Morris

afternoon nap
my sweetheart and i practice
synchronized snoring
    Zee Zahava

one-line haiku

 Welcome to the June 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.


This month there is no particular theme. Each poem is just one line long (or even a single word!)  . . .  revealing meaning and depth in a deceptively simple form.


Contributing poets are from Australia, Brazil, Canada, China, Denmark, Ecuador, Ghana, India, Italy, Japan, Malaysia, Malta, Poland, Romania, Singapore, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and the United States



pond’s ripple a koi’s breath
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

the sweetness of well water
    ai li

so many Alans clumped in the school lunch line
    Alan Bern

our packages delivered next door daily with a smile
    Alan Bern

fish tank the squared-off edge of leylandii
    Alan Peat

family of mice the night train briefly ruffles the snow
    Alan Summers

wind whisper the night shifts to owls
    Alan Summers

the recluse brings in another stray
    Alexis Rotella

smoke from the chimney scribbles across the sky
    Angela Giordano

too many words my dry throat
    Angela Giordano

on the sandcastle a lollipop
    Angiola Inglese

a slight smile in the corner of her mouth the wall still stands
    Ann Carter

among the clutter of the junk drawer dad’s old watch
    Barbara Sabol

sensory overload i count rotations of a ceiling fan
    Barbara Tate Sayre

in plain sight an artist paints the north wind
    Barbara Tate Sayre

collateral damage a felled tree’s shadow
    Barrie Levine

nightfall the last crossword clue
    Blue Waters

ice the riverbanks finally meet
    Brad Bennett

breaking my fall a haiku moment
    Brad Bennett

power failure still flicking light switches
    Bryan D. Cook

blackout the glow of grandma’s oil lamps
    Bryan D. Cook

off the beaten path the best poems
    Bryan Rickert

aging a rose falls apart on the counter top
    C. Robin Janning

dozing until the tea cools ignoring the news
    C. Robin Janning

steam train whistles midnight mourning
    Carol Judkins

raven on my shoulder first tattoo
    Carole MacRury

a little of you in me narcissus
    Carole MacRury

again but with more feeling spring breeze
    Caroline Skanne

forgetting to remember blue butterflies
    Caroline Skanne

the resonance of the bell deep inside
    Charles Trumbull

interstellar flight endless night
    Chen Xiaoou

misty lake     drifting between loon calls
    Chen-ou Liu

silence between us the phone lines sagging with May snow
    Chen-ou Liu

the waiter’s perfumed wipes extra tips
    Christina Chin

calligraphy practice on the blank squares new calendar
    Christina Chin

squirrel park      more squirrels than trees
    Christina Sng

honeysuckle pruning I dream again
    Christine L. Villa

tuning up bagpipes in a closed room
    Christine Wenk-Harrison

translating the parrot’s new rant unpronounceable
    Christine Wenk-Harrison

writing in bursts the rain
    Claire Vogel Camargo

meteor gone before i can say it
    Debbie Strange

in every boulder crevice a different green
    Deborah Burke Henderson

crow caw meditation broken
    Deborah P Kolodji

no moon tonight i walk alone
    Devoshruti Mandal

how     to hold     nothing
    Donna Fleischer

filled to the brim with emptiness origami cup
    Elena Malec

deep meditation a fly fell asleep on my forehead
    Elena Malec

blackbird’s song unfolding an old map inside me
    Florin C. Ciobica

ants forget wildflowers remember
    Frank Muller

what of the dust storm butterfly
    Geethanjali Rajan

stepping into the unknown     a rainbow
    Geethanjali Rajan

cutting an avocado the way we compromise
    Geoff Pope

my mirror is up to its old tricks
    Jack Goldman

mother’s grave the red roses she never liked
    Jackie Chou

beyond my fence a fawn watching me watching red apples
    Jill Lange

rosemary for remembrance and spaghetti sauce
    Jim Mazza

daily yoga practice weeding the garden
    Jim Mazza

heavy fog     mountains disappear
    Joan Leotta

windswept our words becoming tide
    Joanna Ashwell

rainfall skimming along with the dragonfly
    Joanna Ashwell

a strand of her hair curled on my pillow crescent moon
    Joe Sebastian

dawn greets me with questions
    Joel Savishinsky

footprints on the “no trespassing” sign
    John J. Dunphy

ginkgo leaves my niece parting her doll’s hair
    Joshua St. Claire

moose in the meadow     the cow watches
    Karla Linn Merrifield

labyrinth now I remember the night I was born
    Kath Abela Wilson

I dream my dead mother says she loves my latest poem
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

within each morning glory its own dance
    kris moon

drum beats the mountain echoes boomerang
    Lakshmi Iyer

rain under my collar the things i forgot
    Laurinda Lind

your birthday i miss you we no longer speak
    Laurinda Lind

all the glass not found on the beach      cataracts
    Lorraine A Padden

noon shadow only my feet and the cat
    Lucia Cardillo

sinking into piped music delayed flight
    Madhuri Pillai

frost the weight i didn’t know i was carrying
    Marcie Wessels

invitation to write one-line haiku     bag of potato chips
    Margaret Fisher Squires

a smidge of this a dash of that used cookbook
    Margaret Walker

little by little mayflies zigzagzigging
    Marianne Paul

winter soup the swoop and dip of spoons
    Marietta McGregor

river’s edge all ducklings in a row
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

praying mantis looking the other way
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

lucid dreaming wild-eyed pansies glancing back and forth
    Mary Kendall

tangy lemon tart the child I was
    Maya Daneva

a car alarm     my raspy breath     flowers for your grave
    Michael Flanagan

love all his tennis whites as immaculate as ever
    Michael Gallagher

done meditating the Buddha statue winks
    Michael G. Smith

beachcombing every shell inhabited
    Mimi Foyle

tulips my heart opens first
    Mirela Brailean

love letters the different smell of each lie
    Mirela Brailean

a pile of stones     black teacups mended with gold epoxy
    Miriam Sagan

a peacock’s relentless cry your long absence
    Neena Singh

hummingbird in the mist seen unseen seen
    Neena Singh

mountaintop almost there almost there
    Pat Davis

feathers fly fresh seed in the feeder
    Paul Beech

another rejection a soap bubble pops
    Paul Callus

his touch my throat tightens
    Pris Campbell

orange blossoms the taste of morning drizzle
    Richard L. Matta

aloha plumeria the scent of her blouse
    Richard L. Matta

closing in on 68 the field mouse I am
    Robert Epstein

interpreter signs my pause
    Roberta Beach Jacobson

s      n      a      i      l
    Roberta Beach Jacobson

sweet memory my favorite doll belonged to my sister
    Rosa Clement

a question posed between night-blooming jasmine
    Seretta Martin

in the ocean starfish in starlight
    Seretta Martin

happy hour drinks at the birdbath
    Susan Burch

her tiny fingers trace the soft blue veins of grandma’s hand
    Teresa Yatsko

clear morning slipping on my rose quartz bracelet
    Theresa A. Cancro

oh how easily i soak up the folds of a primrose
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

intimacy like the way freesia exhales
    Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

dried spearmint steeping tea new mint greens a patch nearby
    Tina Wright

oh no the last short story so i read it real slow
    Tina Wright

the news my need to just keep walking
    Tom Clausen

puddle portal where does it all go
    Tom Clausen

spring cleaning a violet in mother’s old herbarium
    Vibeke Laier

after funeral moon fills the empty mirror
    Vibeke Laier

teacher’s funeral between loved ones the worst student
    Wieslaw Karlinski

snow melt fills the creek skipping stones
    Wilda Morris

somewhere in the catskill mountains a tree i once loved
    Zee Zahava

drinkable haiku

Welcome to the May 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

The theme for this month’s collection is “drinkable haiku.”

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



farmwork done
drinking palm wine amid
the bustle of late bees
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

collecting dewdrops
for grandmother’s tea
a chinese fable
    ai li

even toddlers
suck on cooled blueberry juice
now on lips and tongue
    Alan Bern

who knows
how many drinks
two moons
    Alan Peat

cherry brandy hangover the spring in my step
    Alan Summers

hot tea in a cold cup winter
    Alexis Rotella

juice stand —
the only nature spot
at the mall
    Ana Drobot

apple juice —
I look out the window
to search for the moon
    Angiola Inglese

soda pop
a toddler giggles
at the bubbles
    Barbara Kaufmann

he flirts
over coffee —
the empty sugar bowl
    Barbara Sabol

sun tea
the time it takes
to kiss you
    Barrie Levine

into an old tin cup
a pristine trickle
of pineland water
    Bill Waters

monsoon rains
a drop of honey
in the ginger tea
    Billy Antonio

mom’s grin as i
gulp her “Pepsi” —
yuck! black coffee
    Blue Waters

draining the dregs
of yesterday’s coffee
writer’s block
    Bryan Cook

rum bottle
nearing the end
his long story
    Bryan Rickert

this green cup filled with
cocoa and three hot spices
smoothing out the day
    C. Robin Janning

strawberry wine —
the girl I was
the woman I am
    Carole MacRury

rings from our beer glasses        nothing left to say
    Charles Trumbull

the end
of the old monk’s chanting
tea time for one
    Chen-ou Liu

granadilla
in iced fruit juice
rustling palm
    Christina Chin

emerging
from my oolong tea
old ghosts
    Christina Sng

chrysanthemum tea
slowly sipping
the sunlight
    Christine L. Villa

the bright side
a chocolate milk shake
after the dentist
    Claire Vogel Camargo

we harvest
a chunk of chaga for tea . . .
vacant bear den
    Debbie Strange

bourbon - sugar - bitters
grandpa says his old-fashioned
beats the heat
    Deborah Burke Henderson

mimosas
on the front porch swing
orange blossoms
    Deborah P Kolodji

rose water drink
getting younger
with every cup
    Elena Malec

chilly night
the moon’s tremor
in my tea
    Florin C. Ciobica

wedding anniversary
a smoothie blended
with honeysuckle
    Geoff Pope

end of Ramadan
adding more ice
to the red sharbat
    Hifsa Ashraf

parting ways
the last sweet taste
of plum wine
    Jackie Chou

pandemic to endemic
a champagne toast
to making it through
    Jay Friedenberg

growing up . . .
with dill pickles
and Coca-Cola
    Jill Lange

wine glass in hand
a familiar face at the bar
oops, that’s a mirror
    Jim Mazza

summer picnic
lips sticky
with cherry kool-aid
    Jo Balistreri

my dad’s drugstore
syrup in soda water —
so many flavors!
    Joan Leotta

a secret spilled
stirring the stock
sharing a spoon
    Joanna Ashwell

summer ritual
mango juice down my elbow
onto my t-shirt
    Joe Sebastian

in less worried times
a long-handled bamboo cup
water from the shrine
    Joel Savishinsky

the poet’s reading
more passionate after
his third espresso
    John J. Dunphy

by the light of the salt lamp —
drops of red wine
on grandmother’s tablecloth
    Julia Guzman

cinnamon protein shakes
my kids refuse to drink . . .
the breakfasts of mothers
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

mulled wine thinking it over
    Karen Harvey

lip to lip
our shared
frappuccino
    Kath Abela Wilson

one strong rum cocktail
one daughter, one Scrabble game
Mother’s Day love fest
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

pomegranate juice
my preference
over wine
    kris moon

waterfront bar
choosing a cocktail
made with cucumbers
    Kristen Lindquist

watermelon sky
pink ice cubes rattling
in the bubbles
    Lakshmi Iyer

now i’m here
in my body again
ginger brandy
    Laurinda Lind

firewater
we toast
the Yosemite sunset
    Lorraine A Padden

the cake laced with brandy her louder than usual singalong voice
    Madhuri Pillai

the only time
dad had a mustache
root beer float
    Marcie Wessels

sippin’ southern comfort
childhood cure
for the croup
    Margaret Walker

drive-thru poetry
iced toasted vanilla oat
shaken espresso
    Marianne Paul

Aperol spritz
the way her hair
traps a sunbeam
    Marietta McGregor

red dust tang
sharing the drover’s
waterbag
    Marilyn Humbert

a county fair
my homemade cider
loses its fizz
    Marta Chocilowska

swirling the bitter
remnant of one last pint
remembering you
    Michael Flanagan

toothache
scent of cloves
and whiskey
    Michael Gallagher

drinking from the same stream
as the grizzly bear
I put on my brave face
    Michael G. Smith

traveling days . . .
I sip water
from a fresh coconut
    Milan Rajkumar

made by a neighbor
to celebrate our son’s birth
home-brewed ginger beer
    Mimi Foyle

hummingbirds —
my niece asks for
a drinking straw
    Mirela Brailean

bitter-sweet drink
sun-kissed kumquats
quench my thirst
    Neena Singh

daddy’s wink
a teaspoon of wine
in my Kool-Aid
    Pat Davis

recovering now —
a steaming mug
of mum’s beef-tea
    Paul Beech

first business venture lemonade TEN CENTS
    Pris Campbell

our morning tea
the nettles infused
with silence
    Richard L. Matta

along the creek
in one big gulp
my favorite mountain
    Robert Epstein

heading south tea getting sweeter
    Roberta Beach Jacobson

drink of water
from the garden hose
work half done
    Ron Scully

coffee shop
I pay for a heart
in my cappuccino
    Rosa Clement

lamp low
over melted cheese and wine
your language on my tongue
    Ruth Yarrow

the morning after
three bloody marys open
six heavy eyelids
    Stacey Murphy

(whiskey) things between us (sour)
    Susan Burch

sitting on my heels
in the Japanese inn
a cup of sake
    Theresa A. Cancro

fruit punch gatorade
only tastes good when i am
dehydrated bad
    Tina Wright

in training
I try another
non-alcoholic beer
    Tom Clausen

seems like yesterday
the kitten drinking milk
in my childhood garden
    Vibeke Laier

milky way
it stopped for a moment
in my glass of tea
    Wieslaw Karlinski

hot cocoa
with marshmallows —
the children wishing for snow
    Wilda Morris

farmer’s market tonic
ginger, cider, cayenne —
I drink from a spoon
    Yvonne Fisher

giggling with cousins
ginger ale poured into
the orange juice
    Zee Zahava

haiku happiness

Welcome to the April 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

This month’s collection focuses on Things That Make Us Happy … small things, major things, long ago memories, and current moments.

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


Wishing you a sense of peace and happiness as you read the following haiku . . . .



lakeside
breaking bread
with fishes
    Adjei Agyei-Baah

i have breath this morning
    ai li

at the cafe table
a woman and a small girl
mouth I LOVE YOU
    Alan Bern

a mayfly
i breathe in the sky
for my moment
    Alan Peat

adjusting the reading lamp buried in the snow forests of Narnia
    Alan Summers

aunt’s lipstick print
on my cheek
I wear it to school
    Alexis Rotella

under a tree
with birdsong
and a good book
    Angela Giordano

clear sky beyond the roses the moon
    Angiola Inglese

warm sun . . . i circle the old pear tree
    Ann Carter

simple life
the vase is content
without flowers
    Barbara Sabol

sabbath candles
my mother’s hands
gathering gold
    Barrie Levine

as soon as the pond ice melts . . . peepers
    Blue Waters

beach day
visiting the four corners
of my towel
    Brad Bennett

beachcombing
the sudden glint
of ruby sea glass
    Bryan D. Cook

birthday cake
the slice I eat
when everyone’s gone
    Bryan Rickert

after breakfast
pairing this rock and that plant
time passes quickly
    C. Robin Janning

party game —
popping
bubble wrap
    Carol Judkins

crayons
waxy smell of a new
box of colors
    Carole Johnston

alone time —
music replaces
the day’s noise
    Carole MacRury

pounding heart
I land at the airport
of her city
    Chen Xiaoou

summer breeze
my daughter dances to the rhythm
of rainbow bubbles
    Chen-ou Liu

spring hammock
baby and I play
peekaboo
    Christina Chin

great sky dreams on birds’ wings
    Christina Martin

duvet
feeling safe
again
    Christina Sng

the space
between you and me . . .
warmth of a dog
    Christine L. Villa

whistling winds
our howls of laughter
telling jokes
    Claire Vogel Camargo

outdoor cinema —
for a moment the flash
of a shooting star
    Dan Iulian

sand furrows
new guitar strings imprint
my fingertips
    Debbie Strange

slicing the apple
at its equator . . .
stargazing
    Deborah Burke Henderson

campfire
after the hayride
marshmallows
    Deborah P Kolodji

sharing a straw
in a bottle of Boom Boom Lemon
dream of Kyoto
    Donna Fleischer

ocean cliff —
fastened to the fence
lovers’ locks
    Elena Calvo

night fishing
listening to the music
of the Milky Way
    Florin C. Ciobica

deep in the forest
surrounded by stillness
only a heartbeat
    Frank Muller

catching the sun
the brilliant green
of a jewel bug
    Geethanjali Rajan

89th birthday
my mom’s smile
when I walk in
    Geoff Pope

twilight stroll . . .
exchanging smiles
the Ramadan moon and I
    Hifsa Ashraf

morning cocoa
the sweet taste of
melting marshmallows
    Jackie Chou

distant thunder —
bee balm trembling
in the breeze
    Janice Doppler

final ascent
a sunrise reward
from the mountain’s top
    Jay Friedenberg

time in a hammock watching the garden grow
    Jill Lange

unknown phone number
probably a scam call —
no, a long-lost friend
    Jim Mazza

my husband walks by
pausing to give
my shoulder a light caress
    Joan Leotta

easing myself
inside a groove
of snow-drift stars
    Joanna Ashwell

high desert fossils
asleep in ancient sea beds
I walk with oysters
    Joel Savishinsky

sticky coins
I get change at
a child’s lemonade stand
    John J. Dunphy

lunch on the patio
a cicada sings
the entire time
    Jorge Alberto Giallorenzi

the slow movement
of clouds . . .
poppy fields
    Julia Guzman

almost to South Dakota —
the excitement
of a blue barn
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

one night
on the Gulf of Aqaba
the softest kiss
    Karla Linn Merrifield

how jacarandas know
it’s jolly well time
to paint the world purple
    Kath Abela Wilson

dune’s grassy hillocks
a few sea oats and my hands
scribbling at sunset
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

short day        long nap
this old woman and
her old cat
    kris moon

meteor shower
the night air thick
with wishes
    Kristen Lindquist

high summer
all the raw mangoes
under our beds
    Lakshmi Iyer

deep boom the ice lets go of the lake
    Laurinda Lind

watermelon seeds
my son’s invention
of orbital patterns
    Lorraine A Padden

the path to the country house . . . roses
    Lucia Cardillo

after the heat
the relief . . .
petrichor
    Madhuri Pillai

temporary lodging
sleeping with a pillow
from home    
    Marcie Wessels

half asleep my feet buried in the sand
    Margaret Walker

sunshower
the kitchen window
open to freesias
    Marietta McGregor

spring snow
baking bread
for the smell of it
    Marilyn Ashbaugh

at midnight
the grandkids tell me
each star’s name
    Marilyn Humbert

back home
all the roadside puddles
explored
    Marta Chocilowska

a bit unkempt
this cottage garden
my inner life
    Mary Kendall

lemon blossom
in my tea cup . . .
our first breakfast outdoors
    Maya Daneva

the instructor asks
why are you here . . . I answer
tai chi makes me happy
    Michael Flanagan

blazing sun
my father’s shadow
for shelter
    Michael Gallagher

a walk in the woods
we toast her
first published poem
    Michael G. Smith

homecoming —
gulmohar flowers greet me
at the village gate
    Milan Rajkumar

laughing together
catching up on adventures
best friend on the phone
    Mimi Foyle

my open notebook
the gentle breeze
brings a few petals
    Mirela Brailean

I’d steal it
if I could — this view
of plum blossoms
    Miriam Sagan

sharing breakfast
with a squirrel
rock doves coo
    Neena Singh

shell collection
re-arranging
summers
    Pat Davis

the estuary below
glints in the sun —
I read Basho
    Paul Beech

running commentary —
sitting on my broad shoulders
my granddaughter
    Paul Callus

sunrise
the second sunflower
in bloom next door
    Pris Campbell

monarchs
chasing monarchs chasing
kids playing tag
    Richard Matta

morning hike
becoming part of
the desert
    Roberta Beach Jacobson

sunny day
a wasp tastes
everyone’s beer
    Rosa Clement

sunrise through mist
my nose pulls lemon sweetness
from the yellow iris
    Ruth Yarrow

lemon sorbet
summer at the tip
of my tongue
    Sherry Grant

sharing
my good news
trumpet daffodil
    Susan Burch

dad plants flowers
i pat down the earth
tucking them in
    Teresa Bakota Yatsko

bedroom oasis . . .
playing finger cymbals
by candlelight
    Theresa A. Cancro

watching a swamp muskrat
sharpen her teeth on a stick
before eating
    Tina Wright

fedoras cool again taking selfies
    Tom Bierovic

my playlist . . .
every one of the thousand
songs on shuffle
    Tom Clausen

rough seas
you anchor
me
    Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

between
heaven and earth
the smell of sunflowers
    Vibeke Laier

cousin reunion
I unearth
new old family secrets
    Wilda Morris

safely home
a cup of tea . . .
this is my life now
    Yvonne Fisher

jumping waves
laughing so hard
i swallow the ocean
    Zee Zahava

a haiku celebration of women and girls

 Welcome to the March 2022 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal


Contributing poets are from Australia, Canada, Denmark, Ecuador, India, Italy, Malaysia, Malta, New Zealand, Pakistan, Poland, Romania, Singapore, Spain, the United Kingdom, and the United States



mother staying up
all night
when i was ill
    ai li

around my wife a bright corona of burnt orange sunset
    Alan Bern

grey hair and tie dye
fending off the present
with her fondue fork
    Alan Peat

in dialect
grandma speaks to
her peonies
    Alexis Rotella

a few days in May
the scent of roses —
I think of my mother
    Angiola Inglese

carolina jasmine climbing a fence my mother’s gift
    Ann Carter

water baby
my daughter runs toward
her first view of ocean waves
    Antonia Matthew

spring equinox
my granddaughter and I
start our seeds
    Barbara Kaufmann

perfectly seasoned
cabbage soup –
mom’s wooden spoon
    Barbara Sabol

rose and jasmine
the scent of my aunts
in their names
    Barrie Levine

hunkered in the sand
my granddaughter builds castles
for hermit crabs
    Bryan Cook

polio survivor
mother says covid
won’t get her either
    Bryan Rickert

writing together
twelve women calling on
the muses
    Carole Johnston

granddaughter . . .
like mom and myself
sleeping in silk
    Carole MacRury

sunlit lake
my niece jumps into the sound
of laughter
    Chen-ou Liu

first lipstick
afraid to lick
my lips
    Christina Chin

grandma chuckles
over the worm in the lettuce —
more protein
    Christina Martin

beach day
my daughter picks
a seashell for me
    Christina Sng

discovering my
poetry muse in the shower
midlife rescue
    Claire Vogel Camargo

first kiss —
she tells me about
global warming
    Dan Iulian

ice road
I weave blue ribbons
through mom’s hair
    Debbie Strange

deep freeze —
nana warms my small face
with her hands
    Deborah Burke Henderson

my teenage mother
the year she delivered mail
by horseback
    Deborah P Kolodji

ice skating
our friendship bonded
with broken bones
    Elena Calvo

spring fever
my mother puts on
a green dress
    Florin C. Ciobica

backyard ballerina . . .
I’m Margot Fonteyn
showered with petals
    Helen Buckingham

white peony
the subtlety
of my self-image
    Hifsa Ashraf

sisters in pajamas
reading a fairy tale
— missing our mom
    Janice Doppler

in 10th grade
the quiet teacher shares
haiku and Thoreau
    Jill Lange

mom’s junk mail protest
postage-paid return envelopes
ten pounds of rice
    Jim Mazza

hands of twenty women
palming drumskins for Ukraine
our shared heartbeats
    Jo Balistreri

grandmother’s coats
now a quilt
protects me against the cold
    Joan Leotta

believing
in my own magic . . .
drumming
    Joanna Ashwell

a doll house     a stage
she glues grass for her toy deer
makes its habitat
    Joel Savishinsky

VFW post
its new commander stands tall
on her prosthetic legs
    John J. Dunphy

Sunday services —
my daughter’s pink plastic ring
in the offertory
    Julie Bloss Kelsey

a shoulder to cry on
wishing she were my mom . . .
aunty Jean
    Karen Harvey

her wish for peace
my mother’s letters
to world leaders
        Kath Abela Wilson

proud grandma
flexes her biceps
big as grandpap’s
    Kathleen Kramer

all my ancestors
women birthing more women
an unbroken chain
    Katya Sabaroff Taylor

independence day
my tween niece signs her name
with a sparkler
    Kristen Lindquist

family album
great-grandmother
in a pink nightgown
    Lakshmi Iyer

our playground
baseball star
my teacher nun
    Laurinda Lind

RBG
the outspoken pattern
of a lace collar
    Lorraine Padden

the sky is the limit . . .
I repeat mother’s words
to my daughter
    Madhuri Pillai

breakfast
with my favorite aunt
Coke in glass bottles
    Marcie Wessels

grandmama’s feedsack apron pockets of love
    Margaret Walker

white handkerchiefs
the mothers and grandmothers
who never give up
    Marianne Paul

the steadiness
of mother’s hand
first carousel ride
    Marietta McGregor

riverside amble . . .
teaching my daughter
which herbs to pick
    Marilyn Humbert

mom’s cookbook
the stained pages
take me back
    Marta Chocilowska

snapshots
between eighteen and seventy
her constant smile
    Michael Flanagan

first born —
we name our daughter
Rani, the queen
    Milan Rajkumar

my grown-up daughter
fearless and vulnerable
as a wildflower
    Mimi Foyle

turning 60 . . .
i feel more like ten
six-year-olds
    Mirela Brailean

mother-in-law
the gap in her teeth
filled with light
    Neena Singh

homemade dress
mama called it
custom-fit
    Pat Davis

tending tomatoes
Gran relives her mill town youth
a lass on a loom
    Paul Beech

Wilma Rudolph
the wind recalls in awe
her dash to fame
    Paul Callus

never any gossip
or unkind words
my friend’s funeral
    Pris Campbell

scenting the day
her scribbled notes
in my lunch box
    Richard L. Matta

85th birthday —
almost all Mom’s potted plants
still in bloom
    Robert Epstein

reminding me
of my femininity
Georgia O’Keeffe
    Roberta Beach Jacobson

shooing the toddler
out of the abandoned mine —
halo of her hair
    Ruth Yarrow

my old teacher
her death
a cello string snaps
    Sherry Grant

my no cancer trophy a mammogrammy
    Susan Burch

her hands create words
my sister unites
the deaf and the hearing world
    Teresa Bakota Yatsko

warm meteorite . . .
grandma pockets
a star
    Theresa A. Cancro

itself enough for
a family party
sister sally’s lasagna
    Tina Wright

ninety years
each of Granny’s cocker spaniels
named “Honey”
    Tom Clausen

sisters resting under
a cherry blossom tree
no need for words
    Vibeke Laier

echo of Mother’s voice
in the kitchen
singing Back in the Hills
    Wilda Morris

my sweetheart places
each flower in the vase
another act of love
    Zee Zahava

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