Earthsigns

Michael Dylan Welch and Scott Wiggerman, editors. Lidia Rozmus, illustrations.

Press Here, Sammamish, Washington, 2017, 84 pages, 183 poets (one poem each), ISBN 978-1-878798-38-1.

Earthsigns collects haiku and senryu by 183 attendees of the 2017 Haiku North America conference, held September 13 to 17, 2017 in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Edited by Michael Dylan Welch and Scott Wiggerman, this anthology features many of the leading poets writing haiku in English, together with petroglyph-themed illustrations by Lidia Rozmus. The book’s introduction begins by saying “Renowned Santa Fe artist Georgia O’Keeffe said, ‘When you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it’s your world for the moment. I want to give that world to someone else.’ We find such sharing and celebration in this book’s poems.” It also says “May each poem be a flower in your hand, your world for the moment.” You can read the entire introduction, see the contributor list, and order the book online. See also the Press Here page for this book. Here are forty-six sample poems from the anthology, the largest in Haiku North America’s history.



wearing a blue

I have never seen before

Sangre de Cristos


Alan S. Bridges

Littleton, Massachusetts



canyon sunset . . .

so much of his story

I never knew


Angela Terry

Lake Forest Park, Washington



雷雨きて揺れる葉むらの小鳥たち

raiu kite yureru hamura no kotoritachi


thunderstorm—

the shapes of birds

among the swaying leaves


Aya Yuhki

Tokyo, Japan



night of stars—

old wooden crosses lean

into the land


Betty Arnold

Saratoga, California



rubbing oil

into the baseball glove

birthday snow


Bill Cooper

Midlothian, Virginia



pink hoodoos

only my left arm

sunburned


Billie Dee

Las Cruces, New Mexico



white hiking socks

a little less

Red Rock country


Brad Bennett

Arlington, Massachusetts



new table

the years it took

to grow the trees


Carolyn Winkler

Portland, Oregon



sea breeze

the salt taste

in her kiss


Ce Rosenow

Eugene, Oregon



waking from a dream

without a center

misty crescent moon


Charles Trumbull

Santa Fe, New Mexico



en mar azul

como ballenas muertas

dos rocas negras


on the blue sea

like dead whales

two black rocks


Cristina Rascón

Ciudad de México, México



shorter days

the leaves and my hair

change color


David Oates

Athens, Georgia



rocking lightly

in a slight breeze

cicada shell


Don Wentworth

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania



global warming . . .

a stamp from Mars

on the envelope


Fay Aoyagi

San Francisco, California



terracotta moon

the door propped open

with a broom


Francine Banwarth

Dubuque, Iowa



Moving . . .

I take my seashell collection

back to the beach


Garry Gay

Santa Rosa, California



dust bathing

a jackrabbit

kind of day


Jeff Hoagland

Hopewell, New Jersey



morning coffee

the roses and i

find some common ground


Jennifer Hambrick

Columbus, Ohio



before my time

a thunder egg

split in two


Jennifer Sutherland

Viewbank, Australia



sharing spicy tamales

our conversation

perks up


Joan Prefontaine

Cottonwood, Arizona



penny for your thoughts

he says . . . she says

way too much


Johnye Strickland

Maumelle, Arkansas



Down in the canyon

the yellow light of a hogan—

threat of male rain

Josette Pellet

Lausanne, Switzerland

Julie Warther

Dover, Ohio



firefly!

hitching a ride

on its own light


Kala Ramesh

Pune, India



snow

on the blue hills

day moon


kjmunro

Whitehorse, Yukon Territory



too late braking the hitchhiker’s middle finger


Lew Watts

Santa Fe, New Mexico



Ghost Ranch

no need

for a dreamcatcher

Lidia Rozmus

Vernon Hills, Illinois



flyover country—

the speck of a tractor

plowing dusk


Linda Papanicolaou

Palo Alto, California



vintage ring its life before us


Linda Weir

Bowie, Maryland



trickster wind

a beach ball

travels down the coast


Lynne Jambor

Vancouver, British Columbia



alive as it’s ever been

earthworm in the robin’s bill


Marian Olson

Santa Fe, New Mexico



worn smooth by wind

layers of light seep

into a cavern


Marietta McGregor

Canberra, Australia



waxed apples

am told I have

my mother’s smile


Maxianne Berger

Montréal, Québec



woods walk—

I catch the cobwebs

that miss my son


Michael Dylan Welch

Sammamish, Washington



holding the sunset

the red clay

of the infield


Michael Ketchek

Rochester, New York



deleting her

last text

scent of snow


paul m.

Bristol, Rhode Island



firehouse fish fry—

from the makeshift stage

the banjo’s heat


Penny Harter

Mays Landing, New Jersey



the park road

would take longer . . .

month of leaves


Robert Gilliland

Austin, Texas



my inner Chiyo-ni

walking the red path

to Chimayó


Robin White

Deerfield, New Hampshire



mammatus clouds

the cries of hawks

build above me


Sandi Pray

St. Johns, Florida



mountain’s outline

the difference walking

alone


Scott Wiggerman

Albuquerque, New Mexico



tule elk . . .

recalculating

the way home


Sharon Pretti

San Francisco, California



hummingbird—

talk of building

a wall


Tanya McDonald

Woodinville, Washington



東北に春あちこちとふきのとう

tōhoku ni haru achikochi to fukinotō


Tōhoku’s spring—

here and there

the butterbur buds


Teruko Kumei

Tokyo, Japan



alluvium

I pocket a stone

meant for the sea


Tom Painting

Atlanta, Georgia



Similkameen

the river rolls

off my tongue


Vicki McCullough

Vancouver, British Columbia