Standing Still
Michael Dylan Welch and Ruth Yarrow, editors. Dejah Léger, illustrations.
Press Here, Sammamish, Washington, 2011, 36 pages, 74 poets (one poem each), ISBN 978-1-878798-32-9.
The 2011 Haiku North America conference took place August 3 to 7 at Seattle Center, in Seattle, Washington. In this book’s introduction, I wrote that “The 2011 conference theme of ‘Fifty Years of Haiku’ reminds us that it has been five solid decades that English-language haiku has flourished in North America, with the first haiku journal having started in 1963.This theme also connects us to the location of the 2011 conference at Seattle Center, at the foot of Space Needle, which opened for the World’s Fair in 1962.With fifty years of creativity and increasing numbers of poets and poems to celebrate, the Haiku North America conference demonstrates that haiku poets do not stand still in their development and appreciation for this rewarding genre of poetry.” You can also read the entire introduction. See the Press Here page for this book. Here are thirty-five sample poems from the anthology, with selected illustrations by Dejah Léger. Read Melissa Allen’s report of the 2011 Haiku North America conference.
ebb tide . . .
the blue heron
wrapped in stillness
Angela Terry
Lake Forest Park, Washington
shipped oars
we drift with the jellyfish
through her ashes
Billie Dee
San Diego, California
barefoot summer . . .
a drop of honeysuckle
on my tongue
Cara Holman
Portland, Oregon
grass shoots
deer’s breath
just above them
Ce Rosenow
Eugene, Oregon
scribbling pens
to find one that works
winter trees
Cherie Hunter Day
Cupertino, California
the electric fan
turns from the boxscores to
the fashion page and back
Cor van den Heuvel
New York, New York
quiet woods—
he turns to kiss me
through a snowflake
Dejah Léger
Shoreline, Washington
sweet grass and cedar: woven
when the settlers came
her gather basket
Dianne Garcia
Seattle, Washington
spring waterfall . . .
the morning sun splashes
from my hands
Don Baird
Palmdale, California
Brisk west wind,
yet the meadow grass sways
both ways
Don Wentworth
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
流木の軽さ白さや南風吹く
ryūboku no karosa shirosa ya minami fuku
the lightness
of the driftwood—
evening southerly
Emiko Miyashita
Kawasaki, Japan
deep ruts
under the children’s swing:
end of summer
Ernesto V. Epistola
Sarasota, Florida
Spring galaxy—
the windup robot
takes one more step
Garry Gay
Windsor, California
Grandma’s face
in the window above the sink
distant stars
Gene Myers
Rockaway, New Jersey
rowing
the stars overhead
the stars below
Jay Friedenberg
New York, New York
twilight—
the crows outlast
the gardener
Jay Gelzer
Seattle, Washington
first fireworks
she turns her face
to mine
Joshua Beach
Sammamish, Washington
scattered dominos
new constellations
to disagree about
Katharine Grubb Hawkinson
Seattle, Washington
rope swing
across the river,
across the years
Kathleen Tice
Kent, Washington
full moon
the fox re-sorts
the recycling
kjmunro
Whitehorse, Yukon
a light snowfall—
grandpa waves his hand
on the platform
Makoto Nakanishi
Matsuyama, Japan
city passersby
stare at haiku poets
standing still
Marilyn Hazelton
Allentown, Pennsylvania
midsummer’s day
this heavy
sweet-bee heat
Marjorie Buettner
Chisago City, Minnesota
a show of hands
in the jury room . . .
winter light
Michael Dylan Welch
Sammamish, Washington
癌検査難なし帰路に買う日記
gan kensa nan nashi kiro ni kau nikki
trouble-free cancer exam
on the way home
I acquire a diary
Minako Noma
Matsuyama, Japan
drinking radiation no risk of on the news in Japan drinking rain
Richard Gilbert
Kumamoto, Japan
no trespassing . . .
prickly pear blooming on both sides
of barbed wire
Richard Tice
Kent, Washington
sketching wild orchids—
slowly I sense
their sweet smell
Ruth Yarrow
Seattle, Washington
Mother’s Day—
flowers without thorns
in the psych ward
Susan Antolin
Walnut Creek, California
I tell him
he does too much—
overflowing flower basket
Tanya McDonald
Woodinville, Washington
wood grain of the door
suddenly a forest grove
inside my room
Terran Campbell
Seattle, Washington
a Chopin étude
on late-night radio
pale lilies in a vase
Terry Ann Carter
Ottawa, Ontario
floating mist
the odd sound of
my new address
Tracy Koretsky
Bellevue, Washington
deepening sunset
on the sideboard
last year’s canned peaches
Wanda D. Cook
Hadley, Massachusetts
numbers on his arm . . .
a grandchild asks
how he got them
William Scott Galasso
Edmonds, Washington