Embedded Files
First published individually in various journals, as indicated. Please note that many of these haiku and senryu list only partial publication credits. I assembled these poems on the themes of music and sound in 2008 to be selected for a performance at Seattle’s Folklife music festival.
a chime of bells
across the snowy field—
the horse’s breath
Frogpond 18:4, Winter 1995, page 12
a crab apple
from the highest branch
rattles down the rain spout
Brussels Sprout X:1, January 1993; Dogwood Blossoms 8, June 1994; William J. Higginson’s Haiku World (Kodansha, 1996)
a table for one—
leaves rustle
in the inner courtyard
Mayfly 25, May 1998
after the shooting star—
a single note
from the wind chime
Mayfly 12, July 1991
between songs . . .
pick marks
on an old guitar
Frogpond 20:2, September 1997, page 31
blue moon—
drips from the awning
keeping time
Heron Quarterly 2:4, October 1998
cathedral bells . . .
the chestnut vendor’s
steaming cart
Shiki Internet Haiku Contest, 1997 Runner-Up
Christmas concert—
in unison
the whole chorus inhales
Frogpond 18:4, Winter 1995, page 22, in the “Angels We Have Heard On High” sequence
cotton flowers—
the rise and fall of voices
from the country church
Sunbreak trifold, 2007
crackling beach fire—
we hum in place of words
we can’t recall
Heron’s Nest 6:11, December 2004, Editors’ Choice; Bullseye trifold, 2005
dense fog—
a Christmas song
from the carillon
Frogpond 18:4, Winter 1995, page 22, in the “Angels We Have Heard On High” sequence
distant church bells . . .
a sparrow’s breath
lost in the holly berries
Frogpond 20:3, December 1997, page 14
distant train sound—
ink from the lost cat poster
runs in the rain
Acorn 1, Fall 1998
downtown rain
the jazzman
plays his sax
Frogpond 14:2, Summer 1991, page 13
drifting off
the Greyhound’s wipers
in and out of rhythm
Boston Haiku Society News, June 2001
dripping from the gutter,
autumn rain
spins the bicycle peddle
Frogpond 16:2, Fall–Winter 1993, page 12
empty silo—
spring wind pops the metal
in and out
Modern Haiku 22:2; Midwest Haiku Anthology (Brooks Books, 1992); Woodnotes #15, Winter 1992; Global Haiku (Iron Press/Mosaic Press, 2000) + +
first day of school—
I eat my buckwheat pancakes
in silence
Snapshots 7, 2000
first snow . . .
the children’s hangers
clatter in the closet
Woodnotes #23, Winter 1994; Shreve Memorial Library (Shreveport, Louisiana) Electronic Poetry Network, 30 December 1997; Snapshots 4, October 1998, Third Best of Issue; Cor van den Heuvel’s The Haiku Anthology (Norton: third edition, 1999); John Barlow and Martin Lucas’s New Haiku (Snapshots Press, 2002)
found in the attic,
granddad’s pocket watch
ticks once in my hand
Mayfly 26, December 1998
hospital waiting room—
the drinking fountain
stops humming
Mayfly 38, Winter 2004; Inside the Mirror (2005 Red Moon Anthology, Red Moon Press, 2006), page 75; Bullseye trifold, 2005; Shreve Memorial Library (Shreveport, Louisiana) Electronic Poetry Network, 6–8 October 2006
jazz in the park—
the baby’s cowlick
bobbing with the beat
Mayfly 27, June 1999
morning bird song—
my paddle slips
into its reflection
Modern Haiku 24:1, Winter–Spring 1993; Cor van den Heuvel’s The Haiku Anthology (Norton: third edition, 1999) + +
mother’s pots and pans
forgotten in the sand box—
a mid-summer rain
2006 Tokutomi Memorial Haiku Contest, Honourable Mention; Sunbreak trifold, 2007
outdoor concert—
the bobbing flute
keeps catching the sun
Brussels Sprout 11:2, May 1994
rings on the counter the customer’s repeated joke
South by Southeast 5:3, 1998
ripples in the tidepool—
a quieter ocean
in my child’s shell
Heron’s Nest 9:2, June 2007; Sunbreak trifold, 2007
scattered petals . . .
the thud of my books
in the book drop
Frogpond 22:2, 1999, page 8; Shreve Memorial Library (Shreveport, Louisiana) Electronic Poetry Network, 4 March 1998 +
shooting star
shouting
shooting star
Modern Haiku 34:1, Winter–Spring 2003
squawk of a jay—
walking sticks left
at the trailhead
Acorn 5, Fall 2000
still no answer
just a fly . . .
buzzing
Haiku Quarterly (Arizona) 2:2, Summer 1990, page 22
the busker’s guitar pick
dropped into the hole . . .
a gentle rain
Snapshots 7, 2000
the pattern of hammers
in the grand piano . . .
warmth from the fire
Mariposa 9, Autumn/Winter 2003
the silence between us
a quail finds its way
through the underbrush +
Modern Haiku 32:1, Winter–Spring 2001; Loose Thread (2001 Red Moon Anthology, Red Moon Press, 2002)
tourists talking
in several languages—
the glassblower exhales
2003 HPNC San Francisco Contest; Tug of the Current (2004 Red Moon Anthology, Red Moon Press, 2005), page 77
wet beach sand—
a sandpiper’s song
of footprints
See Haiku Here: Digital Haiga Gallery 2 (haiga by Kuniharu Shimizu)
winter fog—
from somewhere the squeak
of a neighbor’s garage door
Geppo 28:1
a leaf falls
from the greenhouse ficus
clap of thunder
Heron’s Nest 1:4, December 1999
a meadowlark’s call
amid a flurry of leaves . . .
the woodpath turns
Woodnotes #10, Autumn 1991
a pile of hail
at the rain spout’s mouth
a young dog, barking
Black Bough 4, 1994
a red toyon berry
at the trail’s edge—
the tinkle of a stream
Captain Haiku website, 1997, in “Thornewood Poems” sequence +
a robin’s song the next hospital bed now empty
Frogpond 21:3, 1998, page 8
a sheet of newspaper
scrapes along the sidewalk
till it folds into a puddle
Heron Quarterly 2:4, October 1998, in “The Night Watchman” sequence
after the storm
wind chimes
in the grass
(for Hal Roth)
Tidepool 8, 1991, page 64
aging rock star—
a hearing aid
in each ear
Frogpond 15:1, Spring–Summer 1992, page 23
an old fiddle case
takes my coins
and the rain
Brussels Sprout 11:2, May 1994
breath of wind—
a blind man’s hand
touches the chime
Heron Quarterly 2:4, October 1998
Christmas Eve—
Dad’s old snore
through the guest room wall
Modern Haiku 38:2, Summer 2007, page 72
click of the bolt—
the siamese cat
bends around the door
Shreve Memorial Library (Shreveport, Louisiana) Electronic Poetry Network, 8 October 2001
click of the camera
hollow of the castle step
collecting rain
Heron Quarterly 1:2, April 1997
cloudy day—
a magpie squawks
from the sundial
Heron Quarterly 2:4, October 1998
cold apartment—
through the long night
a neighbour’s cough
Frogpond 18:4, Winter 1995, page 18
deep red sunset
on Christmas Eve—
the phone’s sudden ring
Heron Quarterly 2:4, October 1998
disconnected phone—
the curl of cream
in steaming coffee
Upstate Dim Sum 2003/I
distant traffic hum—
the stone buddha’s
moss-filled crevice
Heron’s Nest 2:6, June 2000
distant train . . .
in the morning mist
the loon stops paddling
Snapshots 7, 2000
driving home
with the radio on,
I miss my exit
Woodnotes #12, Spring 1992, in “Darkened by Shadow” haibun
golden gate park
teen with a boom box—
mime covers his ears
Fig Newtons: Senryu to Go (Press Here, 1993)
gusting autumn wind—
the telephone ringing
in the burning house
Mayfly 20, November 1995
her last breath . . .
the strings vibrating
on her dusty harp
(for Elizabeth Searle Lamb)
Heron’s Nest 7:1, March 2005
home from work—
a scuffed baseball
among shards of glass
Haiku Splash; Mike Schacht’s Fan Magazine (Baseball Haiku) (Fan Magazine, 1998)
in the distance
a car horn sounds
. . . a pencil clatters to the floor
Heron Quarterly 2:4, October 1998, in “The Night Watchman” sequence
jays squawk
from redwood tops—
the hush of distant traffic
Captain Haiku website, 1997, in “Thornewood Poems” sequence
jazz club—
the waitress stops
to undo a button
Modern Haiku 27:1, Winter–Spring 1996
late-afternoon sun—
jumping in the leaf pile
to hear the crunch
Captain Haiku website, 1997, in “Thornewood Poems” sequence; Haiku Light, November 1998
late into the night
the conversation on philosophy
uh . . . huh
Woodnotes #31, Autumn 1997, in “Uh-Huh” rengay
moonless night—
her guard dog barks
at the new husband
Fig Newtons: Senryu to Go (Press Here, 1993)
October afternoon—
the sound of an oak leaf
falling through branches
Frogpond 18:3, Autumn 1995, page 6
open sky . . .
the wounded call
of a snow goose
Midwest Haiku Anthology (Brooks Books, 1992) +
our last hug
at your doorway . . .
the clock, ticking
Bottle Rockets 2:1, Fall/Winter 2000
our rhythmic breathing
a bee slips deeper
into the fuchsia
Modern Haiku 24:3, Fall 1993; Hiroaki Sato’s Erotic Haiku (IBC Publishing, 2004; Stone Bridge Press, 2005), page 35; artwork by Terry Ann Carter
ringing church bell—
moonlight dimmed
by a gentle snowfall
Geppo XXIX:5, September–October 2004, page 1
ringing phone—
the bathroom scale
recenters itself
2003 Haiku Canada Drevniok Award, Honourable Mention
roar of a missed bus—
the stone I kicked
falls into a storm drain
From a Kind Neighbor (Haiku Society of America, 1997)
scraping bottom
on a sandy shoal,
bright red canoe
(for Robert Spiess)
Modern Haiku 33:3, Autumn 2002
sheet lightning—
the fawn’s hoof
snaps a twig
Acorn 4, Spring 2000
sound of spring rain—
a drip clings
to the shower-head
Heron Quarterly 1:2, April 1997
spring birdsong . . .
unopened the longest,
the heaviest present
Birthday Tomorrow (Two Autumns Press, 1998)
sudden lightning—
the street mime
claps
Modern Haiku 29:2, Summer 1998; Snow on the Water (1998 Red Moon Anthology, Red Moon Press, 1999); Haijinx 1:1, 2001
summer afternoon—
the soda’s sound
changes as I drink
Heron’s Nest 4:7, July 2002
summer breeze . . .
a tin-can phone call
from treehouse to treehouse
Frogpond 19:2, September 1996, page 26
summer twilight . . .
after the campfire
star songs
Haiku Quarterly (Arizona) 3:3, Autumn 1991, page 30
temple blossoms . . .
the deep tones
of wind bells
Brussels Sprout 10:3, September 1993
the black cricket—
louder
in my rusted pail
Woodnotes #30, Autumn 1996
the clackity-clack
of the last roller-coaster—
a crescent moon
2003 Haiku Canada Drevniok Award, Honourable Mention
the grandfather clock
ticking in the library . . .
a bowl of ripe pears
Black Bough 6, 1995
the gull’s cry—
the shape of the wave
before it curls
Frogpond 18:2, Summer 1995, page 8
the siren stops
at the draped body—
hopscotch markings
Haiku Light Website, April 2000
the telephone rings . . .
beads of water
join on the shower rail
Frogpond 22:1, 1999, page 45
the waiter interrupts
our argument on abortion—
a choice of teas
Bullseye trifold, 2005
the web between stumps—
a tree frog answers
the pond frog
Captain Haiku website, 1997, in “Thornewood Poems” sequence
voices on the trail . . .
the heap of deadwood
clogging the stream
Captain Haiku website, 1997, in “Thornewood Poems” sequence; Haiku Light (November 1998); Haijinx 1:1, 2001; Shreve Memorial Library (Shreveport, Louisiana) Electronic Poetry Network, 20 March 2003
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