• Lange, Jill

    the fluffy cat who never talks freely sheds his fur everywhere


    fire this time the devil denies

  • Larry Bole

    the new graveyard
    slowly the cleared field
    regains its stones

    Modern Haiku, Autumn 1979, Vol. X, No. 3, p. 7

  • Laughing Waters

    the temple bell
    counting my heartbeats
    in the ripples of lake


    winter moon
    stays closer to the rooftop
    homeless cat


  • Laurie Greer

    student garden
    the orderly rows
    of seedlings


    tall grass
    dew stains
    on my knees


  • Lee Gurga

    drop a stone a drop of wine in your still waters


  • Lee Gurga

    carrying nowhere
    out of moonlight
    blue damselfly


    broken bridge:
    something sharp
    something tender


    the other door
    blue asters


  • Lee Gurga

    morning purr
    our fig leaves
    dusted with snow

    second childhood
    a dusty box
    of seashells

    retirement party
    mountains mirrored
    in each lens

    kissing the curve
    of your neck

  • Lee Gurga

    night train
    lit from within
    a bobwhite calls


    Indian summer
    a pile of leaves becomes
    a pile of little boys

  • Levy, Mark

    old pine
    the distant mountain



    the salt of her lips



    the stars have teeth

  • Lignori, Priscilla

    Slipping off the branch—
    the snow finally reaches
    its destination

    Honorable Mention - 72th Basho Memorial 2018 English Haiku Contest 

  • Lisa Alexander Baron

    Tiny, black-and-white shells
    in a wooden bowl
    like a heap of bees –
           feeling grateful your
           dead words sting less

  • Lisa Baron

    in mid-winter, summer blues:
    a blue-dusted cricket,
    a blue-lit spruce, a blue tick
    on the tip of a rabbit's ear

    to my grandmother's story
    generations back
    on the train of a mere voice

  • Lisa Espenmiller


    suspicious for oh fuck elevator memory ride


    hand me his gloved hands radiation pill sacrament


    fog future right in front of us all we get


  • Lisa Espenmiller

    another dry year
    tap water
    spills through my hands

    Modern Haiku, Issue 46:1, Feb., 2015

  • Lisa Espenmiller

    endless sky
    telephone wires
    make it bearable

    Bones, Issue 6, March 15, 2015

  • Lohman, Eric

    sunlight on leaves -
    whatever my worries
    the trees don't care

  • Lohman, Eric

    communion wafer
    such a thin hope


    packing for home
    I leave room
    for the last sunrise

  • Lori A. Minor

    same wavelength the sparrow’s V


    relapse the moon’s eclipse


  • Lori Ann Minor

    summer the heat of his punch

    Troutswirl - Haiku Dialogue: Poet’s Choice, monoku

  • Lucas Stensland

    the chestnut forest –
    not looking back

    empty bottles
    last night is so far    
    ...from here

    shade garden
    a Dickinson poem    
    etched on a log

    wind waving
    goodbye for now . . .
    tobacco leaf

    her eyes
    when I take her side  . . .  

    Lucas Stensland's an American living in Minneapolis, Minnesota. His poems have appeared in a variety of publications including: American Tanka,  FrogpondRibbonsThe Heron’s NestNotes From the Gean, Presence, and Roadrunner