• astray
    the pond
    I lied to


    magpie chapter
    you can tell whose ‘I’
    is ripped


    let it be
    if a mollusk’s pulse
    corresponds to a fugue


    the word “seed”
    lodged between
    my incisors


  •        r  c

        e       o

      v            m

    o                  e











  • Blandness. Monotony. Boredom. Blue emptiness. Numbness. Lassitude.

    zero in three lines


  • small talk
    the creek scampers
    beyond its banks

    Modern Haiku Volume 48:1 (2018)

  • broken mirror-
    my reflection
    in all the pieces


  • milking honeysuckle downpour


  • green barley
    a slack tide
    of turfan silk

    Akitsu, Spring 2018

  • pulling corn silk
    under starlight
    a single firefly


    first blossoms
    float upon clouds
    old pond

  • defensive dating
    unspooling avatars again
    and again


  • after the snap
    family removed his arms
    but not the ptsd

    Failed Haiku September 2018

  • he's so controlling
    he wants to pick out
    her next husband


    his temporary
    blackout - her years
    of terror flashbacks

  •                          /
    S H A T T E R                   D!
               -               I                  / -
                       \                     I
                   I                 I - I   -/

  • black ice
    I drive over
    the moon

    vape smoke escapes
    her pale white face

    early morning
    the prisoner’s breath lingers
    above barbed-wire

    tire chains left behind
    on the narrow highway

    Christmas shopping
    she tries on
    another necklace

    gold light shimmers
    across the water

    breaking news
    in the old t.v.
    drifting clouds

    trying to sleep
    in the hospital lobby

    smell of coffee
    I take another bite
    of a salad

    strangers walking briskly
    through the garden

    deep into the night
    sound of sirens

    seagulls calling
    above dim streetlamps

    dementia . . .
    waves washing away
    footprints in the sand

    migratory patterns
    in the wings of a butterfly

    my neighbor gives me
    another cookie

    new cracks form
    in the marble steps

    heavy rain
    sunlight pierces through
    broken thoughts

    solving the last word
    of a crossword puzzle

    early morning . . .
    I light another journal
    on fire

    headlines trickle down
    a vacant driveway


  • perfect storm...
    sounds of relief
    the day after 

    NHK Haiku Masters website, and presented on their TV. November 2017

  •      flute notes

    2018 Harold G. Henderson Haiku Awards - second place

  • moonless night –
    my reclusive neighbor
    points out Jupiter

    Modern Haiku – 41.3 autumn 2010
    Republished in: evolution: The Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku 2010 (Red Moon Press, 2011)

  • bare branches

    a raven weighing

    blackbird lilac forgive my confusion


    half-moon half-no-moon raspberry blossoms


    noon whistle          this is not my life

  • my winter family
    stink bugs
    in the rafters

    this snow or the last?
    my father forgets
    my name

    my hair half white
    not even thick enough
    for a louse

    why don’t pigeons
    perch in trees? 
    bitter rain

  • cooking dinner
    daughter turning
    into her mother


    sleeping bag
    on the park bench
    a prayer