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


raiu kite yureru hamura no kotoritachi


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


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


hitching a ride

on its own light

Kala Ramesh

Pune, India


on the blue hills

day moon


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


Scott Wiggerman

Albuquerque, New Mexico

tule elk . . .


the way home

Sharon Pretti

San Francisco, California


talk of building

a wall

Tanya McDonald

Woodinville, Washington


tōhoku ni haru achikochi to fukinotō

Tōhoku’s spring—

here and there

the butterbur buds

Teruko Kumei

Tokyo, Japan


I pocket a stone

meant for the sea

Tom Painting

Atlanta, Georgia


the river rolls

off my tongue

Vicki McCullough

Vancouver, British Columbia