Mann Library Haiku

Poems from the month of May 2016, as featured poet at the Mann Library haiku page at Cornell University. My thanks to Tom Clausen for his serendipitous selections and sequencing of the following poems, all previously published.


May 1
                                           spring sun—
                                              at the top of the roller coaster
                                                        she says yes


May 2                                 tulip festival—
                                              the colours of all the cars
                                              in the parking lot


May 3                                 reading in bed
                                                      my pulse flickering
                                                      the lightly held bookmark


May 4                                 morning bird song—
                                              my paddle slips
                                              into its reflection


May 5                                 landing swallow—
                                              the ship’s chain
                                              dips slightly


May 6                                 spring breeze—
                                              the pull of her hand
                                              as we near the pet store


May 7                                 morning sun
                                                        a patch of frost
                                                   in the holstein’s shadow


May 8                                 mountain spring—
                                                    in my cupped hand
                                                          pine needles


May 9                                 meteor shower . . .
                                              a gentle wave
                                              wets our sandals


May 10                               after-dinner mints
                                              passed around the table
                                              . . . slow-falling snow


May 11                               fresh snow on the mat—
                                              the shape of welcome
                                              still visible


May 12                               crackling beach fire—
                                              we hum in place of words
                                              we can’t recall


May 13                               empty silo—
                                              spring wind pops the metal
                                              in and out


May 14                               summer moonlight
                                                     the potter’s wheel
                                                           slows


May 15                               pulsing
                                              in the wiper’s blade
                                              the bee’s abdomen


May 16                               spring cleaning—
                                              dirt in the grooves
                                              of the five iron


May 17                               you squeeze my hand . . .
                                              how still the sky
                                              after fireworks


May 18                               toll booth lit for Christmas—
                                              from my hand to hers
                                              warm change


May 19                               under the umbrella
                                                      stormy face


May 20                               taking invisible tickets
                                              at the foot of the basement stairs—
                                              child’s magic show


May 21                                         gridlock
                                                                on the freeway—
                                              the skywriting drifts


May 22                               beach parking lot—
                                              where the car door opened
                                              a small pile of sand


May 23                               clicking off the late movie . . .
                                                     the couch cushion
                                                     reinflates


May 24                               first cold night—
                                              the farmhouse linoleum
                                              worn at the sink


May 25                               moving day—
                                              the coolness on my cheek
                                              after your kiss


May 26                               deep in shadow
                                              three generations
                                              counting tree rings


May 27                               first on the trail—
                                              the pull of a spider’s strand
                                              across my face


May 28                               fox on the trail—
                                              your hand held up
                                              to my chest


May 29                               my hand on your thigh . . .
                                              from the window seat
                                              the curve of the earth


May 30                               first day of summer
                                              a postman delivers mail
                                              in a safari hat


May 31                               from horizon to horizon the milky way


Author Bio

Michael Dylan Welch has cultivated his sense of wonder with haiku poetry since he was a teenager. His poems have appeared in hundreds of journals and anthologies in at least twenty languages. He enjoys writing essays about haiku, which have also been widely published. Michael has served the haiku community in various ways: founding, running, and helping to run organizations such as the Haiku Society of America, Haiku North America, the American Haiku Archives, National Haiku Writing Month, Haiku Northwest, and the Tanka Society of America, directing haiku retreats, publishing books and journals, and running poetry readings. Michael hopes that others, too, will catch the haiku habit. What a wonderful world!