Wednesday, December 30, 2009

bank statement

year-end bank statement
reusing the tea bag
for a second cup

Sunday, December 27, 2009

last day of the year

last day of the year
the dream

Saturday, December 26, 2009

lustrous snow

lustrous snow

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Christmas eve

Christmas eve
the girls wearing
new flannel PJs

Monday, December 21, 2009


sipping a stronger brew
in the waning light

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

rain turns to sleet

rain turns to sleet
grounding my daughter
our shared tears

Thursday, December 03, 2009

winter night

winter night
chill of moonlight
on my skin

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

Thursday, November 26, 2009

half moon

half moon
giving thanks
for all of it


Today a favorite poem that speaks of how language defines the world and always falls short. Very relevant to haiku's subtlety, its "pointing a jeweled finger at the moon."

The world does not need words. It articulates itself
in sunlight, leaves, and shadows. The stones on the path
are no less real for lying uncatalogued and uncounted.
The fluent leaves speak only the dialect of pure being.
The kiss is still fully itself though no words were spoken.

And one word transforms it into something less or other—
illicit, chaste, perfunctory, conjugal, covert.
Even calling it a kiss betrays the fluster of hands
glancing the skin or gripping a shoulder, the slow
arching of neck or knee, the silent touching of tongues.

Yet the stones remain less real to those who cannot
name them, or read the mute syllables graven in silica.
To see a red stone is less than seeing it as jasper—
metamorphic quartz, cousin to the flint the Kiowa
carved as arrowheads. To name is to know and remember.

The sunlight needs no praise piercing the rainclouds,
painting the rocks and leaves with light, then dissolving
each lucent droplet back into the clouds that engendered it.
The daylight needs no praise, and so we praise it always—
greater than ourselves and all the airy words we summon.

from Interrogations at Noon
© 2001 Dana Gioia

Monday, November 23, 2009

cold drizzle

cold drizzle
how can a broken heart
continue breaking?

Happy birthday, my son

Sunday, November 22, 2009

winter in the wind

winter in the wind
no cake for this candle lit
in memoriam

For Andy

Thursday, November 19, 2009


Sometimes, a picture really is worth a thousand words. I thought this pictorial in the NYT titled "biodiversity" was particularly poetic and humorous. You'll see autumn leaves in a new light.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Simply Haiku

Catch my latest publication at Simply Haiku. See assemblages 2, 3, and 4.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

last leaf

last leaf
re-learning the art
of letting go

Saturday, November 14, 2009

late autumn

late autumn
preferring the quiet work
of raking leaves

Sunday, November 01, 2009

all saints day

all saints day
from the corner of my eye
someone   no one

Friday, October 30, 2009

autumn sunset

autumn sunset
dripping Van Morrison's
Tupelo honey

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

reading haiku

reading haiku
at 3 a.m.
rain drums the skylight

Friday, October 16, 2009

cold rain

cold rain
a maple leaf floats
in the water basin

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

the breached creek bank

breached creek bank
all day half-living
in last night's dream

Sunday, October 11, 2009


I started this blog, appropriately, on April 1, 2007, with the intent of writing one haiku a day for a year, which I did for well over 2 years. Most haiku experts will admit that none of those first verses qualifies as haiku. It has been a journey, one I am deeply grateful to have your friendship and kindness as I made my way.

Writing a daily haiku feels more like work than an interesting challenge these days. I need to be untethered from the calendar and write as moved, which I hope doesn't become too infrequent. I have felt anxiety, not wanting to let my readers down. I am so grateful for your support.

I have another challenge I am not sure how to approach. Most journals are now accepting haiku that have not appeared in print or on line in any forum. I need to think about whether the day-to-day camaraderie and support I get is more important to me than publishing. I could post here the haiku I don't intend on submitting, but a) it's hard to know how good a poem is sometimes when it's fresh, whether it's a keeper or not, and b) I don't want the quality of my blog to consist only of the sub-par haiku. I welcome your advice. I don't like feeling like I have to choose between my blog and publishing. Suggestions?

I've renamed the blog to break from the daily commitment. I am using a line from a haibun and what will be the title of my book, the rising mist. The URL remains the same.

Warmest thanks,


Thursday, October 08, 2009

mackerel sky

pine shavings curl
in the hand plane
mackerel sky

Tuesday, October 06, 2009


this unnamed flock
no less beautiful

Sunday, October 04, 2009


the leaf's shadow
on the pond dapples
brocaded carp

Friday, October 02, 2009

deep autumn

deep autumn
we read love poems once
in these woods

Thursday, October 01, 2009

autumn dew

autumn dew
bird seed sprouting
in the old feeder

Sunday, September 27, 2009

unfulfilled wish

unfulfilled wish
daruma doll's
one eye

Friday, September 25, 2009

star map

star map
tracing the constellations
on your flesh

Thursday, September 24, 2009

rising floodwaters

rising floodwaters
the man paddles his canoe
with a shovel

Monday, September 21, 2009

Autumn Equinox

autumn equinox
the fallen leaf
half-green, half-gold

Sunday, September 20, 2009

first frost

first frost
instead of silk

Friday, September 18, 2009

harvest moon

harvest moon
swimming in the black pond
on this clear night

Thursday, September 17, 2009

time's passing

time's passing
my hourglass waist betrayed
by middle-age

Monday, September 14, 2009

cricket song

cricket song
long accustomed
to this ceaseless yearning

Friday, September 11, 2009


weeping willow vines
just touch the water

Thursday, September 10, 2009

autumn breeze

autumn breeze
a child whispers

her first grace

Wednesday, September 09, 2009

morning tea

morning tea
returning the cup
its emptiness

Sunday, September 06, 2009

neighborhood walk

neighborhood walk
echo of my "good morning"
from the stroller

Friday, September 04, 2009

seasons change

seasons change
grandma's grave healing
from the interment

Thursday, September 03, 2009

first cool day

first cool day
not wanting to conceal
my pink pedicure

Wednesday, September 02, 2009


smoke's plumed calligraphy
renders these words mute

Monday, August 31, 2009

Notes from the Gean Tree

My latest haiku published here.

Hi, Alan! I see we're "following" each other again in the publications. Great work!

Sunday, August 30, 2009


with each wave a grain of sand
given and taken

Friday, August 28, 2009

shadows lengthen

shadows lengthen
a crimson leaf rests
on the sundial

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

open window

open window
the cellist's
slow vibrato

Monday, August 24, 2009

lotus pond

lotus pond
tadpoles feast
on a seedpod

Sunday, August 23, 2009


the hummingbird
presses in deeper

Saturday, August 22, 2009

on the lake

on the lake
water's reflection dances
across her face

Friday, August 21, 2009

algae bloom

algae bloom
the green frog jumps

into my green pond

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

autumn grasses

autumn grasses
at least the tea
remains green

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Atlanta traffic

Atlanta traffic
pondering the manner
of my death

Monday, August 17, 2009

low tide

low tide
a gull's wing curves
over the curved earth

Sunday, August 16, 2009


a parade of ants
sticks to the counter

Saturday, August 15, 2009


dabbing on perfume


Check out my latest publication in the autumn edition of Simply Haiku: haiku and haibun

Friday, August 14, 2009


sirens pierce the night
the stillborn's
unheard cries

Thursday, August 13, 2009

deep shade

deep shade
the deep purple sweetness

of serviceberries

Wednesday, August 12, 2009


we help mother blow out
sixty-three candles

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

August heat

August heat
the pregnancy test results
become clear

this is not an announcement; it's just an image. :-)

Monday, August 10, 2009


dart across the water
a bluer blue

Sunday, August 09, 2009

the fading sunset

the fading sunset
at her bedside
he strokes her hair

Tuesday, August 04, 2009

flight of time

the egret lifts off
contemplating the flight
of time

Monday, August 03, 2009

first light

first light
heeding the cardinal's
call to prayer

Sunday, August 02, 2009

end of summer

end of summer
more cucumbers
than neighbors

Saturday, August 01, 2009

this steady rain

this steady rain
the one thing I needed

you couldn't do:
to love me
without stint

Thursday, July 30, 2009

hazy moon

hazy moon
above and below
the moon bridge

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

ink-stained silk

ink-stained silk
I have banished you
from my thoughts
why do you
invade my dreams?

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

blue columbine

blue columbine
the freshly etched date
on her headstone

Monday, July 27, 2009

morning dew

morning dew--
in layered chiffon and pearls
grandma's burial dress
is the finest
she ever wore

Sunday, July 26, 2009

A note

I have hit 800 virtually daily haiku, and I want to thank all of you, my friends, for your comments and kindness. I might have given up at some point without them. As a result of both of our constancy, I will be publishing a collection around year-end. Stay tuned...

Also, Alan hasn't posted the results to the contest page yet, but he notified the contestants by e-mail, and I was short-listed for the annual With Words Haiku Competition for this haiku:

pink dawn
the wingbeats of geese

Thank you, Alan. And thank you all!

still summer night

still summer night
the taste of my daughter's sweat
as I kiss her brow

Saturday, July 25, 2009

I waited

I waited in vain
for you last night
yet I heard
you calling me
in the wind

Friday, July 24, 2009

flower-laden grave

flower-laden grave
the goodbye
I never said

Thursday, July 23, 2009

light slants

light slants through the clouds
we leave the cemetery
bearing her with us

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

solar eclipse

solar eclipse
grandma's white hair haloes
her repose

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

last shimmer

last shimmer
of light fades from the lake
grandma's passing

For AHL 1918 - 2009

Monday, July 20, 2009

last night

last night
we breathed in unison
missing you now
I cannot seem to catch
my breath at all

Sunday, July 19, 2009

first peach

first peach
the child's rosy chin
dripping nectar

Friday, July 17, 2009

rain on windchimes

rain on windchimes
the sound
of your leaving

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

sleepless night

sleepless night
the din of worry and frogs


Monday, July 13, 2009

roses wilting

roses wilting
lying here together

missing you still

Sunday, July 12, 2009

news of a death

news of a death
even in the shade
the unforgiving sun

Saturday, July 11, 2009

summer day

summer day
among the clouds
runs a wind horse

Friday, July 10, 2009

summer love

summer love
he gathers her a bouquet
of lightning bugs

Thursday, July 09, 2009

jasmine twining

jasmine twining
the churchyard fence
a freshly heaped grave

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

this heat

this heat! sleeping naked under a naked moon

With a nod to Issa...

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

edge of morning

edge of morning
sun kissing the edge
of the earth

Monday, July 06, 2009


rutted service road
knee deep
in wildflowers

Sunday, July 05, 2009

night sky

the night sky
raining stars

Saturday, July 04, 2009

Independence Day

homeless girl playing
with her unraveled hem
Independence Day

Friday, July 03, 2009

city bus

Rome flashing
across passengers' faces
city bus

Thursday, July 02, 2009


wading into
the cloud

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

river baptism

in a nimbus of midges
river baptism

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

quavering heat

quavering heat
cicadas cry
in tempo

Monday, June 29, 2009

white lie

white lie
a veiled beekeeper
puffs smoke at the hive

Sunday, June 28, 2009


crossing the blue pools
of her gaze

Saturday, June 27, 2009

swan song

a mute swan's song
from its carved wing bone
first flute music

stone age flutes

Friday, June 26, 2009

riding in the rain

My father was an avid equestrian and disciplinarian. His four daughters dreaded riding with him because he sternly and constantly corrected our form or technique. When I was 15 and more interested in Seventeen magazine and fashion than going on horseback with my dad, that's where I found myself one early summer day. I wish I could remember why we went riding together; I certainly wouldn't have gone willingly.

As we guided our horses up the narrow trail through the aspen groves and Indian Paintbrush of the national forest--dad in his cowboy hat in front and I, bare-headed, in back--a light, warm rain began. I do recall the easy quiet between us with only the sound of soft rain, squeak of saddles bearing our weight, and a horse's hoof striking an exposed root or rock. Just as vividly I can still smell the ozone, the woods, and the scent of wet horse and leather.

warm rain
only the trail before us
silence between us


even from this rock
an astronaut

Thursday, June 25, 2009

watering can

watering can
wilting plants revived
with simplicity

by Afton

Wednesday, June 24, 2009


red as his allis chalmers
the farmer's face

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

midnight jazz

midnight jazz
rain streaming down
the verdigris chain

Monday, June 22, 2009

the shortest night

the shortest night
fireflies outshine
the stars

Sunday, June 21, 2009


on its shimmering thread
spider poised halfway

Saturday, June 20, 2009


the deaf man
listens to the rain

Friday, June 19, 2009

summer's warm breeze

summer's warm breeze
wanting to hear again
my name in your voice

Thursday, June 18, 2009

moonless night

moonless night
the hounds howl
only in my dream

Tuesday, June 16, 2009


sepia souls smile
from a photo negative

Monday, June 15, 2009

overgrown grapevine

overgrown grapevine
unsigned divorce papers
heavy in my hand

Sunday, June 14, 2009

relentless sun

relentless sun
my lips meet the cool arc
flowing from the hose

Saturday, June 13, 2009


limned in light
across night's dark scroll

Friday, June 12, 2009

sego lilies

In the Wyoming high country sego lilies bloom for only two weeks in mid-June. Their exotic beauty is unexpected amid sage, aspen and pinon pine. My Mormon ancestors foraged for these nutritious bulbs in lean times. To me, they were a true sign of summer as the snows receded from the foothills.

hungry only for the beauty
of sego lilies

Thursday, June 11, 2009

sweltering stillness

sweltering stillness
the nurse flicks a bubble
from the syringe

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

silver dawn

silver dawn
slug traces iridesce
on the garden path

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

live oak

live oak
dripping moss
dripping moonlight

Sunday, June 07, 2009

flower moon

flower moon
the nightshades

Saturday, June 06, 2009

afternoon heat

afternoon heat
tandem damselflies
bask on a reed

Friday, June 05, 2009


yanking up thistles
the confession
I regret

Thursday, June 04, 2009

summer heat

summer heat
kimono hung on the wall
billows from the fan

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

rose grafts

rose grafts--
I sit as my daughter
draws my portrait

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

faded postcard

faded postcard
the Nagasaki temple

Monday, June 01, 2009

Sunday, May 31, 2009


scent of lilacs
family gathered
for her last breaths

Saturday, May 30, 2009

last cast

last cast
the fly's graceful arc ending
at the rainbow trout

Friday, May 29, 2009

fig blossoms

fig blossoms
my daughter asks when I lost
my virginity

Thursday, May 28, 2009

night sky

night sky
from the beginning of time
birth of a star

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

spring trail

spring trail
the squeak of new leather
on an old nag

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

blind date

the blind date
who never arrives

last match in the book

Monday, May 25, 2009

morning after

morning after rain
perfumed silk puddled
by the bed

Sunday, May 24, 2009


double peonies bloom
on the artist's canvas
and just beyond

Saturday, May 23, 2009


in blue dusk
the blue heron

Friday, May 22, 2009


rising from the river
with the fog

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

graduation day

graduation day
the unworn
cap and gown

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

daily haiku

daily haiku--
this practice
my only prayer

Sunday, May 17, 2009


even if it knew
the flame's seduction

Saturday, May 16, 2009

walking after dark

walking after dark
the moon
follows me home

Thursday, May 14, 2009


a friend's miscarriage--
looking into the blank eyes
of an antique doll

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

coming summer

spring turns summer
her blush
as he holds her gaze

Monday, May 11, 2009


long walk
from the mailbox
rejection letter

Sunday, May 10, 2009

publication in Sketchbook

Ten haiku you read here first appear in the journal, Sketchbook.

Thank you Karina and John!

Mother's Day

Mother's Day--
dreaming the children
she will never conceive

Saturday, May 09, 2009

before Dachau

before Dachau
the artist's colony
on the Amper

Friday, May 08, 2009

honeysuckle moon

honeysuckle moon--
the taste of your kiss
all these years later

Thursday, May 07, 2009

spring sun

spring sun--
the dog keeps shifting herself
into the shadows

Wednesday, May 06, 2009


buying a used car
from my ex-husband

Tuesday, May 05, 2009


garden plot--
the earth pleated and planted
gives way to hope

Monday, May 04, 2009


the 1812 overture
on the radio

Sunday, May 03, 2009


barefoot in the grass
clutch of a salamander
across my toes

Saturday, May 02, 2009


pressing dirt
around the root ball
a sweat bead seeps in

Friday, May 01, 2009


strong yet pliant grass
pushing up through concrete--
cracking a koan

Thursday, April 30, 2009

out of the bath

out of the bath
the fresh stiffness
of a line-dried towel

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

dandelion clocks

dandelion clocks--
turning my face
to the sun's warmth

Tuesday, April 28, 2009


afternoon drive--
an aria

of azaleas

Monday, April 27, 2009

rain ends

rain ends--

Sunday, April 26, 2009

afternoon heat

afternoon heat--
crescents of dirt
under my nails

Saturday, April 25, 2009


a new wrinkle
in the mirror

Friday, April 24, 2009

neap tide

neap tide--
loggerhead hatchlings
spill down the beach

Thursday, April 23, 2009

earth day

earth day--
my ex-husband tills
a new garden plot

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

petal-strewn path

petal-strewn path--
the promises we made
and broke on the way

Tuesday, April 21, 2009


choosing the white kimono
for her burial

Monday, April 20, 2009

first light

first light--
fishermen cast their first nets
over deep waters

Sunday, April 19, 2009

grandma's garden

'mid morning glories
the sign remains:
grandma's garden

Saturday, April 18, 2009

false dawn

false dawn--
the lie I pretend
not to catch you in

Friday, April 17, 2009


news of a child's cancer
hangs heavy on my heart

Thursday, April 16, 2009


reaching for her hand
static passes between them--
the sparks

Wednesday, April 15, 2009


the neighbor child down
to one training wheel

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

wind-blown petals

wind-blown petals--
this fleeting translucence

passing between us

Monday, April 13, 2009

after showers

after showers
spanning the rainbow's arc
the full sky

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Easter Sunday

Easter Sunday--
finding in the bush
last year's egg

pubished in Winter 2008 Simply Haiku

Saturday, April 11, 2009


weeping cherry sheds
its last petals

Friday, April 10, 2009

stations of the cross

stations of the cross--
the lamb finds
his feet

Thursday, April 09, 2009

maundy thursday

maundy thursday--
in the churchyard moonlight bathes
the foot of the cross

Wednesday, April 08, 2009


all day
turning and turning

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

heavy with nectar

heavy with nectar
bees turn from flower to hive--
the honeyed sunset

Monday, April 06, 2009


each note a summons
to the day

Sunday, April 05, 2009


skipping stones
father and son--
the ripples

Saturday, April 04, 2009

spring break

spring break--
pale flesh scattered on the beach
like so much driftwood

Friday, April 03, 2009


yellow-green fractals
swirl on the pond

Thursday, April 02, 2009

light rain

light rain--
palliative drip...drip...drip
of morphine

Wednesday, April 01, 2009

at two years; latest publication

Sincere thanks to all of you who follow this blog. Today marks two years of virtually daily haiku. I am just a few short of 700 poems. I truly appreciate your readership and commentary.

Also, I just had three haiku published in the March 2009 World Haiku Review (see pp. 1, 2, 4).

another spring

another spring
the empty seat
at the table

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

abandoned graves

abandoned graves--
could I have sprung from these
long-forgotten names?

Monday, March 30, 2009


afterward only silence
between us

Sunday, March 29, 2009


enfolding both star
and wish

Saturday, March 28, 2009


a bee buzzes
on the windowsill--the sting
of the prognosis

Friday, March 27, 2009

peach blow

peach blow--
the baby discovers
the taste of her toes

Thursday, March 26, 2009


hymns of rain
on the windowpane

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

bell jar

placing over
the tender plant a bell jar--
my daughter's first date

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

plum blossoms

plum blossoms
caught up by the zephyr--
our ephemeral love

Monday, March 23, 2009


pink dawn--
the wingbeats of geese

Sunday, March 22, 2009

nightingale song

The cloistered sound
of vespers rising--
nightingale song

Saturday, March 21, 2009

the whitest blossom

the whitest blossom--
only the wind
in the orchard

Friday, March 20, 2009

Spring Equinox

Spring Equinox--
raindrops on each pink bud
double their beauty

Thursday, March 19, 2009

first butterfly

her astonishment
at the quickening within--
first butterfly

Wednesday, March 18, 2009


poppy fields--
the addict cinches tight
the tourniquet

Tuesday, March 17, 2009


the distance between us
measured in breaths

Monday, March 16, 2009


a mute swan's
silent circles--

Saturday, March 14, 2009

spring cleaning

spring cleaning--
when did she quit
playing with dolls?

Friday, March 13, 2009


half-lit daffodil
shining in shadow--
this anodyne rain

Thursday, March 12, 2009

morning run

morning run--
spun light
of a spring dawn

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

dogwood blossoms

white canopies
dogwood blossoms--
taking the long way

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

morning star

morning star--
the newborn's fontanel
pulses softly

Monday, March 09, 2009

chopping onions

chopping onions--
reason enough
to let the tears come

Sunday, March 08, 2009

moonlit beach

moonlit beach--
a first kiss the surf
licking at our feet

Saturday, March 07, 2009


my daughter oblivious
of her own beauty

Friday, March 06, 2009

lenten moon

lenten moon--
the bottomless cries
of hatchlings

Thursday, March 05, 2009

sakura petals

sakura petals--
another spring

Wednesday, March 04, 2009


with steepled hands
the divorce judge

dissolves our marriage

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Sunday snow

Sunday snow--
pondering the density
of the holy ghost

Monday, March 02, 2009


spring snow--
the enormity
of this empty bed

Sunday, March 01, 2009


See my latest haiku published in The Heron's Nest.


counting seconds
between lightning and thunder
litany of loss

Saturday, February 28, 2009

blood moon

blood moon--
stepping into the river
my young daughter

Friday, February 27, 2009

scent of rain

scent of rain--
all the ways
we failed each other

Thursday, February 26, 2009

spring meadow

spring meadow
sound of seedlings bursting
into sunlight

Wednesday, February 25, 2009


budding branch--
luna moth dries
her unfurled wings

Tuesday, February 24, 2009


purling creek--
a remembered lullaby
in the mother tongue

Monday, February 23, 2009


hawk glides
bearing lightly on its wings

Sunday, February 22, 2009

night sky

stars gleam

on a spun sky

Saturday, February 21, 2009


between pavers new shoots green
my meditation

Thursday, February 19, 2009


I wonder whether you breathed
this same air once


a child sleeps
on my leaden arm

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

days lengthen

days lengthen--
my young nephew enroute
to Afghanistan

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

willow catkins

willow catkins--
newborn barn kittens
open their eyes

Friday, February 13, 2009


In the spring of 1993, I was nearing the end of my second pregnancy with a daughter. As she once again dug her heels into my ribs, I was able to clutch her tiny heel through my stretched flesh for a few seconds. It was a precious near-meeting in the bright world outside my womb where I knew and held all of her.

My thoughts turned to my son, the firstborn, whose tiny heel had been pricked countless times and whose burial booties had been far too big. Could he be as nearby as she with only a translucent membrane or mime's wall separating his dimension and mine?

the rising fog--
all that divides us
all that binds us

Published in Contemporary Haibun Online.

robins return

robins return--
a strand of pink ribbon
feathers a new nest

Thursday, February 12, 2009

first pale shoots

first pale shoots--
whisking the matcha
to a jade froth

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

first tree buds

first tree buds--
untuned piano music
from the old folks home

Tuesday, February 10, 2009


shell held to my ear--
a wave swells and rides
itself to shore

Monday, February 09, 2009

post-divorce date

post-divorce date--
rubbing the pale band
on my ring finger

Saturday, February 07, 2009

spring thaw

spring thaw...
an old friend and I
make amends

Friday, February 06, 2009


finally sun--
the icicle's persistent

rhythmic drip

Thursday, February 05, 2009

stargazing II

clear night--
the big dipper ladling
the milky way

Wednesday, February 04, 2009


robins nesting—
fresh white for the crib
she once slept in

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

cold front

cold front--
in the busker's guitar case
five copper coins

Sunday, February 01, 2009


upon still waters
this rustic boat rides
its reflection

Saturday, January 31, 2009


is it a star or plane,

that pulsating?

Friday, January 30, 2009

spring rain

spring rain--
how the polished rock
parts the river

Thursday, January 29, 2009

rumor of war

rumor of war--
lightning chars

the sweet olive

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

lunar new year

lunar new year--
the baby waves her
dumpling fists

Monday, January 26, 2009


the boundless form
of silence

Sunday, January 25, 2009


the new mom wiping tears
with a burp cloth

Saturday, January 24, 2009


slow dancing long after
the music ends

Friday, January 23, 2009

bitter wind

bitter wind--
all the sweetness captive
in this clementine

Thursday, January 22, 2009

hunger moon

hunger moon--
the deer's neck stretched to reach
the last tree bark

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

deep winter

deep winter--
fragile ice fringes
the meadow pond

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

midwinter night

midwinter night--
holding a hug longer
to hear her heartbeat

Monday, January 19, 2009


train platform--
unmistakable scent
of English Leather
the man even looked
a bit like my father

Sunday, January 18, 2009

fork in the road

fork in the road--
the sign points
both ways

Saturday, January 17, 2009

flood waters

flood waters crest--
a coffin bobs
to the surface

Friday, January 16, 2009


the water basin ice--

Thursday, January 15, 2009


singing again
her favorite lullabye--


Wednesday, January 14, 2009


the taut plunk
of a cello string breaking--

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

winter moon

ferrying night
from dusk to dawn
winter moon

Sunday, January 11, 2009

snowed in

snowed in--
a child etches her name

in window rime

Saturday, January 10, 2009


in her pale, blue-veined hand
the teacup trembles

Friday, January 09, 2009

another year

another year--
to blow out the candles
two breaths

Happy birthday to Magyar too!

Thursday, January 08, 2009

fresh snowfall

fresh snowfall--
losing her last baby tooth
my daughter's gapped smile

Wednesday, January 07, 2009


light snow in aspens--
in the mirror, all that
is and is not me

Tuesday, January 06, 2009


winter night--
from the lake a silver blob
breaks free and rises

Monday, January 05, 2009

Gaza new year

Gaza new year--
fireworks ring in

Sunday, January 04, 2009


camellia blossoms--
The pink-fisted baby
grabs my finger

Saturday, January 03, 2009


crystal winter skies
counting the shades of azure
through bare branches

Friday, January 02, 2009


winter sun--
my shadow writing haiku
beside me

Thursday, January 01, 2009

new year

new year--
a phone call
from an old lover

this new year

not to make resolutions