Under the Bashō 2025
Haiku
Editor: Kanjini Devi
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iron rust dawn
a falcon tilts the sky
into a kill-dive
spiralling blossom
the spring wind channels
its inner child
where the moon
turned a blind eye
ululations
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bumble bee buzz
my thoughts change
from black to blue
photo dump
some waterfalls fall
without a sound
wheelchair
a flower tattoo blooming
on her ankle
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cornfield stubble
thumbing through
the book of Job
birds of passage
the gentle flutter
of elm leaves
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photos in the Zócalo:
only tourists
wear native clothing
darting through
the farmer’s market—
woman with the snail tattoo
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a dragonfly weaves
through tea tree shadows
ancient songline
the freezing desert
blanketed by stars
three dog night
urban creek
cotton ball clouds
reflected in scum
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my inaudible fatigue
winter moon
war wind
I grip the first prayer
hometown river moonlight along my forgetfulness
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where rivers meet
memories
and ripples
drifting to sea
the morning after
all these words
sudden storm
headlight beams hold
threads of rain
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fall hike
my toddler's hands now
sunflower yellow
missing my father
a blue jay sings on
my window sill
sleepless night
the katydids talking
over each other
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tsukimi
summer’s wilting terrace
hangs on dusk
cherry petals . . .
steaming the folds of
creased linen
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bluebell woods the meandering scent of this river
bouzouki
our wine bottle filled
with wisteria
pawned guitar
someone's initials carved
into the bridge
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southward geese a ribbon flutters out of reach
dusk
mockingbird calls—
will anyone answer?
dozing lizard
I tilt my face
to the sun
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after the storm only river and sky
backpack skies
every step home
it grows lighter
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lights out: the sound of sleeping monastics and mating frogs
infinity of
stars, crickets
and the two of us
evening walk
with a lifelong friend
scent of figs
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an empty nest
at the fork in the tree
depth of winter
summer solstice
daylilies
fill the divide
fireflies flitting
among honeysuckle
summer’s on!
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june sky
opening up another can
of blue paint
empty pails
the path from the beach
lined with shells
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following
the funeral procession
a mourning cloak
old log road
only dawn comes along
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winter garden –
the sunlight finds a way
through the pruned roses
peony
a bee deep
in the maze
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hardening wheat
the wind
in grandpa's voice
together again...
a handful of beach glass
in evening light
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still in the ocean
the winner
of the salmon derby
above the spindrift
a seal pup
among the whalebones
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first visit of a temple
street dogs surround me
wagging their tails
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I smooth the corners
of a yellowing map:
homes I had, houses I lost ...
muffled cries
a priest's shadow slips
into the grave
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sudden evening rain
runs swiftly
through a nameless town
a little faster
than the wind
the Derby horse
a squid boat’s flame—
souls drawn
from the deep
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bitter cold
arguments crackle
into thin ice
family tree
roots far below
merge into earth
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silent road signs
wind carries the sighs
of names etched in dust
* In South America, roadside memorials or signs are dedicated to accident victims
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mountain morning –
the river rushes through
like-hued pines
a second glass –
sangria's color
decanted by moonlight
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petal rain
a ripple of banjo
in the breeze
roadside attraction
an old hubcap rusting
into autumn
arbor day
we sweep the pollen
from the porch
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the rosy glow
in a rabbit’s ear
autumn evening
downtown
the nonstop honking
of wild geese
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zen garden
the lovers behind Buddha’s back
fighting
telling me
to hold that thought
babbling brook
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driving rain —
snug under a lone pine
the scent of sheep
long haul flight
a skein of geese slides
between high clouds
10pm bells. . .
scents on the breeze
only the dog can smell
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crane’s bill
the sweetening
of dusk
river dust
the sparkle of sunset
within my palm
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leaves scuttle
across stone
—a robin trills
early spring
the slow rotation
of windmills
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a familiar scent
between the covers
my favorite book
birdseed
a second helping
in the chipmunk's cheek
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velvet night
falling snow
deepens the silence
joining the wolves
and their moonlight sonata –
grandpa`s stories
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splashing over the moon bridge schooling fish
applied mathematics chambered nautilus
matter materia mater mother
earth
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city river
in the cold wind
scattered ashes
setting a path
through the flurry
first frost
snaking along
coastal roads
early birds
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counting the rings
a dry spell
the year of grandma’s death
ice on the pond
remembering
who she wanted to be
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still perfuming
the temple courtyard
fallen frangipani
cherry blossom
the granddaughter
he longs to meet
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first snow
jet engines add a white line
to the clouds
through bare trees
the shallow sky
of January first