The reeds make music
In their own greening voices,
They touch one another, like lovers caressing,
And the rustling rises like an anthem.
Sea oats don’t ask for second chances,
They just quiver with life,
And when the breeze passes by
They stand in ecstasy.
A falcon rides an updraft,
Above a sun-beaten shore
Not questioning but soaring,
Wings swooshing as it dives to find
An unsuspecting field mouse,
Whose time has run out,
The final screech unheard, except by the wind.
I walk for miles and miles,
My mind wandering and pondering
The evidence all around,
My eyes sting with the yellow of goldenrod
Born of sand and salt,
My ears ring with the humming of bees
Sucking the last bit of summer.
Late afternoon shadows pull me back
From thoughts that wandered farther than I
Along the beach,
I gather myself up, reluctantly,
Leaving the restless ocean behind.
The wind drums in my ears
This is your one and only chance.
I sense my breath keeping time with the wind,
I melt into the day moon.
The Bards Annual Anthology
Under the Basho
released into spring
by a warm breeze
I, too, feel the urge to flit
from flower to flower
Skylark A Tanka Journal
Volume 5, Issue 2, Winter 2017
pink glow of dawn
behind the pines
Jumble Box : Haiku and Senryu from National Haiku Writing Month
Anthology Published in 2017
She finishes her exercise routine just as the ‘oldies’ music ends. As she passes by her wall of childhood memories, the woman notices her favorite photo and soon she is lost in reverie. Her five year old self, dressed in a sleeveless romper, head thrown back toward the sun, is laughing. A stone ledge, where she is sitting, surrounds a weedy garden, filled with early summer wildflowers. She knows her sister and cousin were with her, but she can’t remember why they aren’t in the picture. The photo never fails to give her a warm feeling – what joy might feel like before something bad happens.
a pond filled with
shards of moonlight
Haibun Today A Quarterly Journal
Volume 11, Number 4, December 2017
a lingering sound
of almost silence
Acorn A Journal of Contemporary Haiku
# 39 Fall 2017
the children yell
it’s snowing again
Ito En The Art of Haiku Contest
April 2017 Semifinalist
WHA Haiga Contest