Sammamish Haiku
The first nine of the following twenty poems appeared in the City of Sammamish Ten-Year Comprehensive Plan in 2015, with artwork by Anna Macrae. Each poem is featured on a separate section divider, as in the “Introduction” image shown here, and is repeated at the top of the document’s following page. After the first nine poems are eleven additional poems about Sammamish, the city where I’ve lived since January of 2003. Five of the following poems (“ghosts,” “a walk in the woods,” “pine lake sunset,” “trail work party,” and “all that’s left”) also appear on “Washington Poetic Routes,” an online poetry project by 2018–2021 Washington State poet laureate Claudia Castro Luna (when you visit the site, click the dot that represents Sammamish, just east of Seattle, where you can also listen to an audio recording of the poems). In addition, many of these poems are featured in my Hilltop Haiku public poetry installation along Sammamish streets.
“Sammamish” is of Native American origin. According to the Sammamish Heritage Society, the name is “derived from samma, meaning ‘the sound of the blue crane,’ and mish, meaning ‘river.’” See also a history of Sammamish on History Link. Sammamish is a great place to live, and CNN Money magazine agrees, numerous times ranking the city as one of the top-15 places to live in the United States, such as the #9 ranking in 2018, with Forbes magazine ranking Sammamish #1 in its 2012 list of the friendliest towns in the country. And in 2015 Sammamish was the #1 city in the entire country with the highest percentage of households earning $100,000 or more. I’m glad to live here. Enjoy these poems! See also the videos and map below. + +
“Your contributions added such a lovely touch, illustrating the beauty of the community that we serve. Thank you for all that you do for us.”
—Kathleen Huckabay, Sammamish Deputy Mayor
ghosts
of the Sammamish—
morning lake mist
bear sighting—
an email alert
makes my phone beep
blown in the breeze,
snips of ribbon
for the new library
a walk in the woods—
my children dancing
atop the big rock
shadows lengthening
over the skatepark—
first leaves of autumn
home in the pines—
my neighbor waves
across the fence
lingering sun—
the farmer’s market peppers
redder and greener
soap box derby—
someone’s front wheel
a little wobbly
council meeting—
beads of condensation
on the glass water jug
pine lake sunset—
today was the day
you asked for my hand
all that’s left
of the beaver dam . . .
the lake named after it
the Seattle skyline
distant to the west—
awaiting fireworks
trail work party—
the goats have eaten
all the underbrush
farmer’s market—
just the kids
listening to the musician
snow day—
my kids make angels
in the neighborhood park
block party—
the kids’ lemonade
is the best ever
making all the traffic
worthwhile—
hometown fireworks
road work—
the commute to Microsoft
longer today
concert in the park—
our kids come home
with beach balls
Halloween night—
a boy says he’s dressed
as the former mayor