SUMMER 2020

hangs in the air

trill of

the Whippoorwill 

 

Erin Castaldi

 

 

so tiny

beneath the silent pine—

mouse bones

 

Laurie D. Morrissey

 

 

March frost—

the cement truck wends down the mountain road,

its drum revolving

 

Wally Swist

 

 

thunder

filling and emptying

valleys

 

Adjei Agyei-Baah

 

 

a hawk shadow lizards into the scrub

 

Chuck Brickley

 

 

spike in death toll

the iris

an inch higher

 

Máire Morrissey-Cummins

 

 

winter not-quite-morning

the tip of a Highland stoat’s tail

 

Wyntirson

 

 

curtains half closed

before I glimpse

the half moon

 

Faye Brinsmead

 

 

winter wind

all the different shapes

of my bones

 

John Hawkhead

 

 

the scorched

riverbed winding

into dusk

 

Joanna Ashwell

 

 

through the cracked window

                      a chirp

                                of sunlight

 

Kelly Sauvage Angel

 

 

warbler trills

the near-steady steps

of a piebald fawn

 

Bill Cooper

 

 

closing the blinds

each one spills

a moon

 

Chuck Brickley

  

 

another day breaks 

around his promise...

war prayers

 

Shreya Narang

 

 

staring at me

compoundingly

the fly

 

Roberta Beach Jacobson

 

 

maize harvest

a combine uncovers

the distance

 

Michael Baeyens

 

 

deep violet

the wood mallard’s 

gentle whicker

 

Erin Castaldi

 

 

sunlight in branches
higher than I climbed
schoolyard oak

 

Gavin Austin

 

 

still water...

the hook lands near

a swan feather

 

Brad Bennett

 

 

chemo hair
just barely
autumn moon

 

Guliz Mutlu

 

 

finding them by touch

under the paisley couch . . .

newborn kittens

 

Michael Dylan Welch

 

 

dune grass breeze

the egg-laden leatherback

shoveling         shoveling 

 

Bill Cooper

 

 

robin on a snowy branch

bitter wind

becomes a song

 

Andrew Albritton

 

 

full moon

I’ve never been

the only one

 

John Stevenson

 

 

spring thaw

a slump

in the last hay bail

 

Bryan Rickert

 

 

dreaming of birdsong I awake into

 

Roberta Fargo

 

 

April gust

a puddle trying to stay

a puddle

 

Chuck Brickley

 

 

summer afternoon...

cattle egrets rest

in the bull's shadow

 

K. Ramesh

 

 

moonless night –

the window of a moving train

cuts a dense mist

 

Goran Gatalica

 

 

waning sun
a splashing robin
empties the birdbath

 

Alan S. Bridges

 

 

more silence than sound     church bells

 

Ben Gaa

 

 

late spring

the unknown bird’s song

familiar now

 

Bob Lucky

 

 

aftermath

we tuck a note inside

the riven oak

 

Debbie Strange

 

 

dawn moon

steam from the kettle

mists the window

 

Lorraine Haig

 

 

That off-beat waddle.

The toddler discovers she

can make seagulls fly.

 

Nick Ling

 

 

echoing through spring snow . . .

calls of bulls and cows

rutting in the meadow

  

Wally Swist

 

 

aging headstones
their tilt
toward eternity

 

Warren Gossett

 

 

summer rain . . .

a grey fishing boat cuts

straight through it

 

Kanchan Chatterjee

 

 

visiting hours over

             flies gather

in a window corner

 

LeRoy Gorman

 

 

wheeling gull

behind the plough...

distant thunder

 

Clive Bennett

 

 

a small spider

sips my blood

in a mosquito

 

David Käwika Eyre

 

  

crimson evening —

the first kick

of the baby

 

Rachel Rabo Magaji

 

 

another gospel song

streams on the laptop—

the deepening night

 

Lenard D. Moore

 

 

stubble field

sunset purples

the poplars

 

Robert Witmer

 

 

old stone wall

a lizard's

sudden defiance

 

Jay Friedenberg

 

 

sunrise

a veneer of ice

melts into sparrow song

 

Roberta Fargo

 

 

winter chill

the roasted chestnut stand

closed for the night

 

Bob Lucky

 

 

After the night’s storm

footprints make a home for the

jittery tadpoles

 

Darlene O'Dell

 

 

the scent of cedar

on a rusting chisel—

waning moon

 

Michael Dylan Welch

 

 

green mile folded back inside my cell

 

Helen Buckingham

 

 

harvest rain

crossing the mountain

in a farmer’s eyes

 

Bisshie

 

 

the pull

of a downstream current

hunter’s moon

 

Rashmi VeSa

  

 

predawn darkness
a distant train whistle
takes me home

 

Chen-ou Liu

 

 

whistling on my walk
a spinebill deep in the throat
of the flowering quince

 

Marietta McGregor

 

 

time-worn hills
a skein of swallows
gathers the dusk

 

Gavin Austin

 

 

wrack line

the taste of salt

in her hair

 

Jeff Hoagland

 

 

planes grounded
a seagull circles
the control tower

 

Lorraine Haig

 

 

roadside

the rudbeckia grows

in half-a-mattress

 

Vicki Miko

 

 

sparkling at dawn
the hundred minarets
of a young dogwood

 

Ryland Shengzhi Li

 

 

new tarp

over the old tarp

winter rain

 

Rich Schilling

 

 

harmattan morning... 

the road side vendor

mixing her flour

 

Rachel Rabo Magaji

 

 

spring rain
the early lilacs
dripping with fragrance

 

Gary Hittmeyer

 

 

blue lake

I shiver before

touching it

 

Meik Blöttenberger

 

 

breaking waves. . .
the sun
reshaping itself

 

Dejan Pavlinović

 

 

laburnum
a sparrow's chirp
becomes yellow

 

Réka Nyitrai

 

 

a hare emerges

from the hedge – briefly

we walk the same path

 

Jenni Wyn Hyatt

 

 

Our toes touch
the sound
of swirling leaves

 

Yvette Nicole Kolodji

 

 

just when

I decide to leave

white lilacs

 

Máire Morrissey-Cummins

 

 

spring flower show

closed due to covid-19 . . . 

orchids pressed against glass

 

Wally Swist

 

 

noticing me
just for an instant
hummingbird

 

William Scott Galasso

 

 

vernal equinox

I thrust my hands

deeper into my pockets

 

Roger Watson

 

 

peaceful rally
sparrows stitch the sky
puddle to puddle

 

Elisa Theriana

 

 

puppy

in the courtyard, ear

inside out

 

Owen Bullock

 

 

conceding

an argument mid-way

pumpkin seeds

 

Rashmi VeSa

 

 

soap bubbles...

our childhood memories 

bursting into nothingness 

 

Jibril Dauda Muhammad 

 

 

a trough

overflowing

April showers

 

Chad Goodman

 

 

brittle crackle
of a long-shed snakeskin 

late summer heat

 

Marietta McGregor

 

 

the world at halt
only the wind
moves the sounds

 

Dejan Pavlinović

 

 

glassy lake – 

I put the skipping stone

back on the ground

 

Dan Salontai

 

 

silver edged
at each leaf the dusk
becoming the dark

 

Kristen Lang

 

 

Spring rains.
A river running still
beneath the flood.

 

Cyril Ioutsen


 

nightfall . . .
I keep the curtain open
for the moon

 

Manoj Sharma

 

 

crowded side walk

behind every face

another face

 

Sina Sanjari

 

 

daybreak –

the fading echoes of 

a seaside bonfire

 

Antonietta Losito

 

 

spring flush
all around the muck spreader
dung flies

 

David J Kelly

 

 

her words in the fencerow blackberries darken

 

our thomas

 

 

a dry leaf edge over edge

                the same regret

 

Roberta Fargo

 

 

petrichor –

the laterite wall comes alive

with fern fronds

 

Vidya S Venkatramani

 

 

imprints

the tide swallows

our story

 

dl mattila

 

 

after harvest

stalks chittering

in the wind

 

Marilyn Humbert

 

 

a fly lands

on the hour glass

the shifting storm

 

Carrie Ann Thunell

 

 

spring breeze …
an elm tree flies out
to the birds

 

Ashish Narain

 

 

cold autumn rain

cowherd warms his bare feet 

in the cow piss

 

Milorad [the son of  Nada née Tesla] Ivanković

 

 

cuckoo's call

ripening mangoes

one by one

 

Rajeshwari Srinivasan

 

 

splitting 

our native home...

flying ants

 

Kinshuk Gupta

 

 

still water

reflecting in silence

the fish and me

 

Mona Iordan 

 

 

all the fun of the fair shut up

 

Sheila K. Barksdale

 

 

litter of light

across dawn's darkening

herring gull's song

 

Michael H. Brownstein

 

 

lost ball—

tiptoeing by

the tomatoes

 

Elaine Wilburt

 

 

summer solstice –

a dream goes on

cleaning green beans

 

Carmela Marino

 

 

heron

the long stretch

of night ahead

 

Laurie Greer

 

 

the herdsman's hat
on a muezzin's head . . .
blazing sun

 

Oluwasegun O. Adesina

 

 

raven’s cry

an abandoned village

on the river bank

 

Eufemia Griffo

 

 

fork in the path
the bunny and I
choose the clover one

 

Marilyn Ashbaugh

 

 

blackbird

slowly the light changes

with his song

 

Maureen Edden

 

 

empty fields

a praying mantis

hops on dried grasses

 

Tolulope Ogedengbe

 

 

brief rain

just enough

to smell it

 

Lisa Espenmiller

 

 

bobbing in the long

wild native grasses, a

wary red-faced pheasant

 

Gonzalo Adolfo

 

 

old house...

still that bit of ivy

clings on

 

Praniti Gulyani

 

 

beneath

the passage of clouds

always blue 

 

Daniela Misso

 

 

a pen dipped in hush –

the tiny frog skips upon

a waterlily

 

Adrian Bouter

 

 

lighthouse inshore

my grandma calls me by 

her sister's name

 

Judit Hollos

 

 

still noon –

the plop of an overripe mango

on the pavement

 

Vidya S Venkatramani

 

 

evening walk

a dust cloud thickens

into sheep

 

Joanne van Helvoort

 

 

field of daffodils

the anonymity

of belonging

 

Jackie Chou

 

 

on a branch

amongst ash leaves

a sparrow’s quiet moment

 

Thomas Powell

 

 

homecoming

crossing the creek

with shoes in my hand

 

John J. Han

 

 

scent of summer rain coming up from the pond reeds a green tree frog

 

Mark Miller

 

 

studying the syntax
of a firefly's blinks…
starless night

 

Srinivas S

 

 

the virus takes

the neighbour's child away

my sorrows grow small

 

Pitt Büerken 

 

 

after all this time

your rose bush that never bloomed

blooms

 

Susan Rogers

 

 

florida sun

the iguanas take shade

beneath traffic barriers

 

Daniela Mejía

 

 

a thump
as the cat leaves the bed
the cold begins

 

Jeanne Cook

 

 

Hot spring afternoon.

The melojo's downy leaves

have made me drowsy.

 

Glenn Hubbard

 

 

A yellow butterfly
sits on the red hibiscus
embroidered on my T-shirt.

 

Tonmoi Das Kashyap

 

 

stacked pineapples

the silence 

between the lines

 

Mamta Madhavan

 

 

empty streets

the loss of touch

touches us all.

 

Mike Moule

 

 

falling    my eye catches      a floating blossom

 

Shari Abramson

 

 

flooded river:

the entire village

rushes past.

 

Rimi Nath

 

 

spring

grandma's hands hold

jasmine scent

 

mallika chari

 

 

almost dusk
a crow flaps down
from the maples

 

Carol Raisfeld

 

 

mountain river

the shimmer of wind

as it passes

 

Lyn Reeves

 

 

the long conversation

with my teddy bear

quarantine rain

 

Gabriel Awuah Mainoo

 

 

moonless sky…

the flickering flame

of diya

 

Kakul Gupta

 

 

a visit home

my old red couch

now a guest bed

 

Tom Staudt

 

 

summer rain...
his voice
so far away

 

Rosa Maria Di Salvatore

 

 

cracked headland

the slight tremor

of her hand

 

Mark Gilbert

 

 

fresh mown grass…
I touch the summer
one last time

 

sanjuktaa asopa

 

 

emptying my shadow a flock of birds

 

Rajandeep Garg

 

 

in the desert sun

a landscape of emptiness

inside an hourglass

 

Alvin B. Cruz

 

 

wildflower meadow

with every footstep —

grasshoppers

 

Tomislav Sjekloća

 

 

hammock in the shade
I try to welcome
the ant on my leg

 

Oscar Luparia

 

 

fallen jacaranda
a mother pea hen
leaves her nest

 

Deborah P Kolodji

 

 

thunderhead. . .

one last gape at

my sandcastle

 

Shomade Abdulazeez

 

 

storm Hector

unaware, the water snail

out of its depth

 

David Gale

 

 

hedge vines

years later the lost ball

gone wild

 

Terrie Jacks

 

 

sudden sunlight

in the bluest of things:

dew on a wild iris

 

Maureen Jivani

 

 

coming back home
the country road absorbs
the summer rain

 

Ezio Infantino

 

 

another reason

to be grateful

full moon

 

Shir Haberman

 

oystercatcher one last peck at the closed mussel

 

Bill Cooper

 

© 2020 Wales Haiku Journal