My Poems in Woodnotes

#3, Autumn 1989

chinook wind

the smell of

melting snow

#4. Winter 1990

harbour lights

the smell of fish

and fishermen

“The Frayed Rope” haiku appreciation essay

#5, Spring 1990

redwood wind

and a rushing stream—

one sound

into the cave

     high tide

          spring moon

“Out of Cassiopeia” review of a book by Charles B. Dickson

#6, Summer 1990

after the funeral

changing her cat calendar

in mid month

midsummer dawn

       the scarecrow’s

              unbuttoned shirt

#7, Autumn 1990

through the birches

       a zig-zag trail

              holds a dragonfly

at his favourite deli

the bald man finds a hair

in his soup

“Zen and the Art of Direct Seeing: Cultivating the Haiku Moment” essay

“Hundreds of Wishes” review of a book by Francine Porad

#8, Winter 1991

dreaming of spring

I shake the snow

from this pine

where the hobo sleeps

beyond the moonlight . . .

a blowing newspaper

In a review of Tremors (Press Here, 1991):

after the quake

the weathervane

pointing to earth

looking up from rubble—

first ray of morning

beyond dark hills

aftershocked

#9, Spring/Summer 1991

“Two Autumns Reading Series” report

in the shade of beech trees—

green moss of spring

on an old wooden dory

#10, Autumn 1991

“Haiku North America Conference Report”

             [published anonymously, but written by me]

harvest moon—

the white spot

on the black cat

#11, Winter 1991

summer stillness—

       a blade of fresh cut grass

              unbends

#12, Spring 1992

“Darkened by Shadow” haibun

#13, Summer 1992

dust hovers above the road at sunset

#14, Autumn 1992

autumn moon—

     a silver leaf      folds

          over the weir

“Japanese Renku Group Visits San Francisco” report

(written with Ebba Story)

#15, Winter 1992

a week after New Year’s—

a trail of pine needles

out to the trash

empty silo—

       spring wind pops the metal

              in and out

             [in book review]

#16, Spring 1993

summer stillness—

a bamboo leaf

on the turtle’s back

this cold lonely night

without you, with no chance

of seeing you again,

how I wish

I could turn off the moon

“Drawings Among Haiku” review of a book by Ion Codrescu

“Tanka Splendor 1992” review of a book edited by Jane Hirshfield

“Waterlily Shadows” review of a book by Margaret Molarsky

#17, Summer 1993

no mail today . . .

tracks of rain on the window

changing direction

a snail has left

its delicate silver trail

on my book of love poems

left out on your porch

overnight

#18, Autumn 1993

“A Perspective on Haiku North America 1993” report

spring breeze—

       flowers

              in the folds of your skirt

so lonely

again this night . . .

the moonlight

spills over the levee

toward your street

#19, Winter 1993

still fluttering

in the mountain wind,

a thousand paper cranes

hung on the pine

by your window

spring breeze—

the pull of her hand

as we near the pet store

“The Woodnotes Survey Summarized” report

#20, Spring 1994

“Rengay: An Introduction” essay

“A Rain of Leaves” rengay with Donna [later Claire] Gallagher and Pat Gallagher

tonight only a pair doves

has come to my window’s shelter

and beside my still-made bed

I have watched

he raindrops fall

          dashing from your car—

summer hail

       streaks my shirt

#21, Summer 1994

I tell her I grow old

have a paunch and need new clothes

that the wild geese have flown

and winter is approaching

—my mother laughs

sun on the rain spout . . .

      shadows

from peeling paint

noon sun—

the curve of wet sand

around a glass float

             [in book review]

#22, Autumn 1994

    floating down the stream

               petals

                          swept

from the summer-house deck

trimming my nails

on a summer afternoon,

I think of you—

yesterday you told me

you just cut your hair

#23, Winter 1994

a swirl of snow—

she lifts her hair

out of her sweater

“Christmas in the City” rengay with Jim Force (Nika) and vincent tripi (presented with calligraphy and illustrations by Carolyn Fitz)

#24, Spring 1995

cleaning the bedroom—

the warmth of her shirt

left in the sun

rain streaks the window—

an old phone book

burning in the stove

#25, Summer 1995

“The ‘Ordinary’ Haiku Poet” essay

how much heavier

       after morning mist—

her jeans on the line

a clean towel

from the linen closet—

smell of scented candles

#26, Autumn 1995

leash on a nail—

snowmelt

in the dog dish

flowering plum—

the overnight rain

has taken the blossoms

“Haiku Poets of Northern California 1995 Rengay Contest” results and commentary

#27, Winter 1995

my hand curves

      to fit your breast . . .

the windowsill, snow-laden

winter wind—

kite string tangled

in the garden trellis

#28, Spring 1996

golden sun

still in the waving wheat

at twilight

drifting

      into the moon

toy sailboat

#29, Summer 1996

summer afternoon—

the worm in the robin’s beak

still twisting

taking invisible tickets

at the foot of the basement stairs—

child’s magic show

#30, Autumn 1996

the black cricket—

        louder

in my rusted pail

fading sunset . . .

    icicles

on a wasp nest

“Skipping Stones” rengay with Kenneth Tanemura

#31, Autumn 1997

words do not come

for you

on your passing

till the first warm day

      the blossoming plum

             (for Pat Shelley)

horse dust settles

      the wet end

      of a snapped sapling

first snow—

the random tracks

of Canada geese

“Uh-Huh” rengay with Lee Gurga