January 2021 – Haiku About Alcohol
wandering about—
dust on my tongue
a cold beer in my mind
—Michael Lindenhofer
whisky tasting—
my memories
become his
—Eva Limbach
empty cocktail lounge
player piano playing
“Piano Man”
—David Oates
the way
he‘s asking my name
warm sake
—Simone Knierim
war for water in the future i sip my beer
—Dietmar Tauchner
two fingers wide
the evening sun is sinking
into scotch
—Gabriele Hartmann
no ice—
I take my whisky
with the moon
—Rob Scott
Mars mission
the whispering of ladies
at the aperitif party
— Ramona Linke
evening drizzle
sitting on the kerb
a shadow drinking beer
— Frank Williams
rambling phone call
i count the drinks
in her voice
— Roberta Beary
funeral procession —
the town drunk tips
his tattered hat
— H. Curtis Dunlap
shot glass
upside down
the bartender
spills her guts
to me
— Angie LaPaglia
cracking the seal
on a whiskey bottle
winter morning
— Mark Brager
wine tasting over
at dinner
I swirl my water
— Terri French
the pub waitress
smiles at me . . .
beer foam spilling over
— Olivier Schopfer
I put stardust
on the shopping list
he brings back beer
— Diana Michel-Erne
the drunk
dancing
to silent music
— John McDonald
minus fifteen
three snowmen sharing
a vodka bottle
— Cezar-Florin Ciobîcă
New Year’s Eve
we open a new bottle
hope
— Martina Sylvia Khamphasith
local winos —
“That‘s French wine
but where is it from?”
— Volker Friebel
a couple
a couple of drinks
a couple of full moons
— Claudia Melchior
lipstick
on a red wine glass
her DNA
— Christof Blumentrath
with clay sake cups
we drink to our health
long autumn night
— Ikuyo Yoshimura
winter gloom
outside the stadium
a lone drunk salutes
— Dave Serjeant
rising sun
the depth of a barrel
of blood wine
— Anna Maris
sherry drinker
a classic novel
yellowed with age
— Erin Castaldi
sober since monday
one of the kids
buys groceries
— Sonja Raab
jazz in the air –
wine in the glass
vine once again
— Toni Piccini
red morning sky
with trembling hands
he takes the bottle
— Hildegard Dohrendorf
shooting stars…
the fizz of champagne
on my tongue
— Stella Pierides
ruby anniversary
in their wine bottle
a little leftover
— Eleonore Nickolay
February 2021 – Haiku About Oceans
rogue wave
….curling me back
into myself
— William Scott Glasso
deep beneath the sea
upon those in deepest sleep
cherry blossom petals fall
— Momoko Kuroda
darkening
the ocean, the light
slips away
— Michael McClintock
the ocean merging
into each of them too
raindrops
— Christopher Herold
red sunset
an ocean wind sails
on swift wings
— an’ya
six months at sea…
he carves the shape of his wife
out of a whale’s tooth
— Corine Timmer
our bare feet
next to each other
next to the ocean
— Gary Hotham
vernal seas…
all day long swelling, falling
swelling, falling!
— Yosa Buson
rowing clear
through the hazy dimness —
the vast sea
— Masaoka Shiki
right now
while we chat
fish in the deep ocean
— John Stevenson
line of pelicans
the constant sound
of ocean
— Deborah P. Kolodji
vaster even than the ocean thought
— Jim Kacian
pacific paddle
the wave bigger
than my fear
— Jim Kacian
Asilomar
a poet taking dictation
from the ocean
— John Stevenson
ocean view
we settle in
with the fog
— Robert Earl
old map
someone’s fingerprint
in the ocean
— Nikolay Grankin
all day hike
ocean fossils
at the summit
— Bryan Rickert
ocean trawler —
its exhaust
a cloud of gulls
— Michael J. Galko
heaving ocean
a humpback
rolls south
— Glenys Ferguson
ocean breeze
a seagull’s wing tip
grazes the day moon
— Terri L. French
beach littered with shells
the ocean whispers
in vitro
— LeRoy Gorman
pondering the ocean’s every wavelet a fluke
— kjmunro
that bit where the ocean
shines up
through moonlit cloud
— Karen Sohne
filling
a child’s bucket
the ocean
— Julie Warther
deep ocean fog
the dark heron emerges
and disappears
— Bruce Ross
end of summer
the ocean dissolves
in my footprints
— Scott Mason
oceans not plover shores
— Susan Diridoni
March 2021 – Haiku About Aerial Arthropods (flying insects)
mosquito
a stranger’s blood
on my hand
— Quendryth Young
the earth`s curve
a fly circles in on
Brazil
— Susan Mallarnee
on the blank page
the stumbling bee inscribes
a message in gold
— Lyn Reeves
writer’s block
still chasing
the same mosquito
— Paul David Mena
red moon eclipse
a mosquito settles
on my bloodline
— Ron C Moss
a paper cross
for the dead butterfly
takes flight
— Tash Adams
late autumn haze
a constellation of gnats
skywriting ampersands
— John Hawkhead
another summer
the butterfly, still safe
under his steel pin
— Gregory Piko
a ladybug
unfolding its wings
desert sunrise
— Tom Bierovic
speedboat wash
the dragonfly bounces
on a river reed
— Samar Ghose
she stoops
and blows it from her hand –
a stick insect
— Alice Stanford
April 2021 – Haiku About Reading
garden reading
a ripe mango drops
with a splash of red ants
— Adjei Agyei-Baah
confined at home…
again around the world
with Phileas Fogg
— Cezar Florescu
bunch of wild flowers —
a gentle breeze flips the pages
of summer romance
— Krzysztof Kokot
Her eyes only just
over the book’s edge —
sunset
— Bouwe Brouwer
Lime in bloom —
my memory book unfolded
by the wind
— Magdalena Dale
Intriguing reading.
Night came on and slowly broke
into the room
— Franklin Magalhães
An open book
rolls on the chest
of a sleeping woman
— Enses Kišević
reading Freud —
how could I forget my Soviet girlfriend’s
Cleopatra nose?
— Manu Kant
midnight kiss
scented letter unfolds
its secrets
— Celestine Nudanu
becoming a rage
rereading a sad page
doomscrolling
— Joseph Connolly
poetry reading —
the sparrow
swivels its beak
— Amy Losak
my grandma
in forced lockdown
reading her prayers
— Keith Simmonds
reading the will
I inherit
the anxiety
— Bryan Rickert
reading their masks
we watch the crow’s feet
take flight
— Peter Jastermsky
the wind
reading the newspaper
faster than me
— Patrick Fetu
pansies and fairies —
in his picture-story book
the length of twilight
— Ernesto P. Santiago
reading session…
forgetting where grandma
put her glasses
— Willie Bongcaron
sorting mom’s books
the romances go
to the phone box library
— Ralf Bröker
sitting on a fence
reading about the lorax…
there are no flowers
— Pat Geyer
red dragonfly ….
I read the same
page twice
— Lucia Cardillo
used book
finding my alter ego
in the margins
— Carole MacRury
reading Basho
under the moon…
a pine drops its seed
— Elaine Duffy Ashley
harvest moon
a tarot card reading
she fails to finish
— Frank Tassone
sign language
reading the love words
on your lips
— Eufemia Griffo
a long night —
under the bedside lamp
dead poets
— Tomislav Maretić
farewell letter
the waning scent
of autumn roses
— Daniela Misso
pillow nook
for a new book —
a pot of tea
— Michael Baribeau
winter morning
reading glasses are better
with each cup of tea
— Basant Das
second hand bookstore —
leafing through pages
the scent of others
— Marina Bellini
May 2021 – Haiku About Cats
open window
the cat dozes
half in half out
— Alan Summers
on her black fur
the cat brings in
white blossom
— Andrew Shimield
the end of a talk
how loudly the cat purrs
on your lap
— Artur Lewandowski
another quarrel
the cat licking
my wife’s plate
— Bakhtyar Amini
summer holiday . . .
the cat stretches out
in the suitcase
— Beata Wrzal
train delays …
the station cat’s eyes
open and close
— Brendon Kent
sound of rain
cat paws kneading
a soft blanket
— Caroline Skanne
Valentine’s day
side by side with tails entwined
two cats purring
— Claire Vogel Camargo
kitty and orchids
complementary halos
of warming sunlight
— Constantine Gregory
open window
watching the cat
listen
— Craig Kittner
crossing — a cat running to the fish market
— Djurdja Vukelić Rožić
exiting home
an angry looking cat
stares me out
— Frank Williams
cloudy morning
a stray sunbeam
finds the cat
— Iliyana Stoyanova
house warming
the neighbor’s cat stays
just out of reach
— Joanne van Helvoort
warm roof ―
all the cats at dusk
in evening dress
― Krzysztof Kokot
first feeding —
smelling her milk
the black cat
— Lee Gurga
cat on the roof
catches with his paw
autumn moon
— Małgorzata Formanowska
midday heat
the slow switch
of a lion’s tail
— Marion Clarke
reacquainted
brushing the Buddha’s belly
a Siamese cat
— Mark Gilfillan
in your one eye
the glow of the full moon
cemetery cat
— Mark Meyer
a cat’s paw
pressed against my lips —
the whistling wind
— Michael H. Lester
windows open now
my cat laying on the sill
in the hazy moon
— Michael Henry Lee
lurking
around every corner
the black cat
— Mike Gallagher
first light
the length
of a stretching cat
— Nikolay Grankin
summer nap
in the neighbour’s garden
duel of cats
— Oscar Luparia
a ruckus of birds
the old cat closes
her eyes
— Sandi Pray
strict diet
just my cat’s tuna breath
— Stefano d’Andrea
midnight ―
the cat steps on
just one piano key
— Tom Clausen
worm moon
on the roof pretty cat
and two tomcats
— Tsanka Shishkova
crouching feral cat
the swaying glow
of pampas grass
— Veronika Zora Novak
evening stillness
crossing rose garden
a cat’s shadow
— Vibeke Laier
June 2021 – Haiku About Passages
New Year’s Day —
not liking my fortune
I buy another
— Stanford M. Forrester/sekiro
bagging mom’s clothes
every pocket
offers a tissue
— Diane Tomczak
unopened rosebud
on a broken stem
miscarriage
— Deborah P. Kolodji
women’s march
the toddler in the crowd shows
her new tooth
— Gail Oare
blackout –
my son speaks a secret
i always knew
— Roberta Beary
Milky Way —
maybe tonight
I’ll conceive
— Brenda Gannam
new to the group —
sitting in back with
the artificial plants
— Jim Kacian
My last day at work —
already someone has taken
the stapler from my desk
— Alexis Rotella
heart rate irregular
somehow it matches
my life
— Michael Rehling
snow melting
the village brimming over…
with children!
— Kobayashi Issa
roadside stand
a quart of strawberries
between us
— Kelly Sauvage Angel
I finish a novel
my daughter’s
first words
— Ronald K. Craig
graduation day—
my son & i side by side
knotting our ties
— Lee Gurga
soft rain . . .
the way the oncologist
says “we”
— Bill Kenney
dried leaves
settling into
menopause
— Lori Minor
burial trees
how long
before they hollow
— Helen Buckingham
jurisdictional dispute —
body in the southern hemisphere
brain still in the north
— Louise Hopewell
rainy season
in the bride’s bouquet
a seed sprouts
— Marta Chociłowska
autumn rain
I heap more dirt
on the shoebox
— Lew Watts
reading the will
I inherit
his anxiety
— Bryan Rickert
night fall
in my dreams
there’s still time
— Michael Henry Lee
PhD defense
only my reflection
follows my talk
— Maya Daneva
“Motorcycle for Sale”
the clink of the spoon
in the baby’s bowl
— Steve Hodge
in the car I see
I am number three
on speed dial
— Mark Danowsky
gone too soon
sakura blossoms
my old friends
— Debbie Strange
children’s laughter
a weekend father
with sticks in his hair
— Ron C. Moss
three times I’ve said
“your husband…”
now we can just talk
— John Stevenson
ironing —
all those wrinkles
on my hand
— Duncan Richardson
the windowpane reflects
a tv cartoon
snow falling
— Alan Pizzarelli
July 2021 – Micro Haiku
flash mob daffodils
— Alan S. Bridges
mime
lifting
fog
— Jerry Kilbride
snowflakes bricks
— George Swede
co-
v.
id
— Helen Buckingham
pansies we smile back
— Charles Trumbull
heart
wood
her echo
lalia
— Mark Harris
birdsong every now
— Brad Bennett
raining at every window
— Cor van den Heuvel
peephole skin mole
— Eric Amann
first tattoo your touch
— Mike Spikes
insideachotherain
— LeRoy Gorman
Sept
ember
— Carolyn Hall
lossified
— Melissa Allen
light
lights
light
— Raymond Roseliep
a firefly
on the web
lit
— Bob Boldman
on hold the heat
— Marlene Mountain
my head in the clouds in the lake
— Ruby Spriggs
gunshot the length of the lake
— Jim Kacian
Columbine (the flower)
— Roland Packer
how
on earth
on earth
— John Martone
sins of omission moonlit
— Michelle Tennison
biopsy
i google
god
— Ernest Berry
fumbling
with tenses
at the wake
— Hilary Tann
freed
of its cage
of ribs
— Dave Read
yesterdaylilies
— Matthew Moffett
V
VII
V
— John Stevenson
rain
silent
snow
— Jane Reichhold
campfire
words
embers
— Steven R. Carter
keepsache
— David J. Kelly
home
unpacking
sand
— Marco Fraticelli
dewdrops
I count
my blessings
—Yu Chang
August 2021 – A Year in Lockdown
beach day
another wave breaks
in isolation
—Lance Convey
between bleats
the new goat nibbling
at my ponytail
—Kanjini Devi
winter of owls
who will I know
in the obits
—Sue Colpitts
lazy summer
on the porch waving
friendly flies
—Ron Russel
the whole world
inside a snail shell
opening
—Bonnie Couchman
self imposed prison
what else do i need to do
writing starts again
—Mitchell Ross Abrahams
stationary
my biking commute
to teleworking
—Jo Elle
caresses
and memories
fading
—Line Gauthier
lockdown life
moment by moment
in slow motion
—Sophie White
expressions
on the playground
an unseen smile
—Pallavi Sriram
waxen lily
on her grave
delta’s dawn
—Kathryne Ankney Higheagle
christmas cheer
through the window
cold empty streets
—Orense Nicod
fingertips
caress the windowpane
silent tears
—Michael Morris
deadlines or doomsday
the baby screams ragnarok
home office
—Sharon Hammond
pulse oximeter
beeps its displeasure
hospital nights
—Henry Sampson
November oysters
we’d share our love by the grill
giving thanks alone
—Lisa Fiedor Raines
under lock and key
for a chiliad of days
we’re guests of the zoo
—Ian Blair Lee
slim winter moon
floats on a cloud ridge
lockdown again
—Orange Sage (Rhonda)
a rare rose
the new niece
I’ve not held
—Sue Colpitts
life
an element we can’t grasp
until frozen
—Orense Nicod
last drop
of a winter wine
not over yet
—Ron Russel
winter moss
my ginger steps
at first light
—Kanjini Devi
lockdown ends—
a concert ticket
in my coat pocket
—Rob Scott
isolation
archetypes of war
stalk my dreams
—Claire Rosilda
gully wind-bay
off gloaming offing
pink sunrise;
where are you
—Destiny Izehi
novel corona
rush for eid celebration—
dancing macabre
—Tito Mostafiz
reason without mask
cheap b rated comedy
candy cigarette
—Ian Blair Lee
prayer flags
the lines of underwear
between our windows
— Michael Smeer (Mikō)
melancholy year
saying our Christmas prayers
without Mom and Dad
— Lisa Fiedor Raines
a crab makes
an empty shell it’s own—
my little room
—Alice Wanderer
September 2021 – Haiku About Dreams
first dream
Mick Jagger
gives me a second look
—Mary Stevens
saturnine sunrise coffee cup half full of dreams
—Anna Cates
small town
too much of her dream
in the diner
—Peter Newton
rain through the night again the dream of chewing glass
—David Boyer
By blooming cotton fields the Dream with asterisks
—Paul Pfleuger, Jr
don’t ask
why I have bad dreams
ask why if I don’t
—Diane di Prima
driving my car
into the ocean
that dream again
—Pat Tompkins
first dream
I buy a tanked lobster
for the ocean
—Marilyn Appl Walker
a dream of being a man on the run plum blossoms
—Marie Louise Munro
La Vie en Rose…
losing you in a dream
comes back to me
—Lesley Clinton
the dream
before it evaporates…
morning tea
—James Chessing
scribbled dreams
on an index card
spring cleaning
—Bob Lucky
spring
a dream in the shape
of a duck egg
—Autumn Noelle Hall
night fishing
he catches
a dolphin’s dream
—Fay Aoyagi
soaked path
the lake I dream of
treading
—Anne Carly Abad
daydreaming…
I lean against
the lean-to
—Robin White
snow storm over the war in my dreams
—Dietmar Taucher
a dear friend
returns in a dream—
fallen leaves
—Martin Duguay
scatter leaves
all my dreams
in sepia
—Jennifer Sutherland
solving for x…
the trees you dream
have no leaves
—Aditya Bahl
daydreaming
in the braille
of winter
—Don Baird
winter dawn
holding the dream
into daylight
—Joanna Ashwell
spring blossoms
she awakens
from his dreams
—Seánan Forbes
escaping through
a hole in my sock
year’s first dream
—Sharon Pretti
a red mite
walks the stones
dreams of children
—David Boyer
patchouli
a dream of someone
I thought I’d see again
—Dawn Apanius
walking half awake
my whole life
a dream
—Robert Mainone
the vulture
glides in tightening circles
around my dream
—Mike Andrelczyk
dead of night
coyotes break the silence
of my dreams
—Marcia Behar
morning shave
the memory of the dream
cut short
—Jay Friedenberg
October 2021 – Haiku About Firsts
first spring day
whatever it is
that wags a dog’s tail
—Billie Wilson
first contractions
at the end of the day
a pink and blue sky
—Susan Constable
first firefly
among the stars …
a child’s wish
—Chen-ou Liu
her first tadpoles
her hands ready
to catch a dozen
—Emiko Miyashita
candy sticks
to its wrapper
first day of school
—dl mattila
my first straight-A report card
for once I take
the shortest way home
—John J. Dunphy
first snow . . .
the children’s hangers
clatter in the closet
—Michael Dylan Welch
the first day of school
her legs sway from the chair
far from the floor
—Nina Kovačić
first raindrops
snail retracts
its tentacles
—Tomislav Sjekloća
first snow
the red hat
of a refugee
—Skaidirte Stelzer
cherry blossoms
a girl wears lipstick
for the first time
—Tom Bierovic
first date
her earth
is flat
—Elmedin Kadric
crescent moon
. . . rolling
her first ever joint
—Helen Buckingham
evening walk
my hand on her waist
for the first time
—Emmanuel Kalusian
the first
to find summer
a ladybug
—Agus Maulana Sunjaya
a cherry blossom . . .
the moment
I first believed
—Chad Robinson
for the first time
through thirsty furrows
autumn flowing
—Dejan Pavlinović
first icicles…
the neighbors’ hedgerow
has many shadows
—Goran Gatalica
casket
the matte black finish
of his first car
—Peter Newton
quieter now
than before it came
first snow
—Paul Chambers
always first to bloom—
this cherry tree
in the graveyard
—Gilles Fabre
first day at work
someone else’s family
in my top desk drawer
—Terri French
bulletproof glass—
the cashier calls me
by my first name
—Tyrone McDonald
first glimpse of fall —
what I planned to do …
what I did
—Adelaide B Shaw
first painting . . .
the universe on the
tip of my brush
—Pamela A. Babushi
first raindrop
on the lake
the monk’s prayer gong
—Radostina Dragostinova
somewhere
beneath snow banks
first flake
—Brad Bennett
wife’s first gray hair I point it out a few times
—Nicholas Klacsanzky
hospice visit
she reads the last chapter
first
—Nancy Brady
first dose—
I become immune
to their comments
—Ana Drobot
November 2021 – Ekphrastic Haiku
crisp morning air
on a crowded platform
shuffling to Albinoni
(after Concerto No.9, Op 7, 1722 by Tomaso Albinoni)
—Bill Cooper
knowing Dali’s
Meditative Rose
says it all
(after the painting Meditative Rose, 1958 by Salvador Dali)
—Katherine Gallagher
old inkwell
the night tells
Jane’s secrets
(after the film Becoming Jane, 2007; dir. by Julian Jarrold)
—Eufemia Griffo
red lips
like her eponymous box
sealed tight
(after the painting Pandora, 1871 by Dante Gabriel Rossetti)
—Neal Whitman
Pachelbel. . .
I drive right past
my destination
(after Canon and Gigue in D, 1680 by Johann Pachelbel)
—Carole MacRury
eternal springtime
her body weightless
in his bare arm
(after the sculpture Eternal Springtime, 1884 by Auguste Rodin)
—Debbie Antebi
my rose
is somewhere out there…
starry night
(after the novel The Little Prince, 1943 by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry)
—Kristina Todorova
the battle ends…
water filled shell craters
turn gold with the sun
(after the film The Testament of Youth, 2014; dir. by James Kent)
—Frank Williams
the battle ends…
water filled shell craters
turn gold with the sun
(after the film The Testament of Youth, 2014; dir. by James Kent)
—Frank Williams
white on white symphony in white
(after the painting Symphony in White, No. 1: The White Girl, 1861-62 by James McNeill Whistler)
—Theresa A. Cancro
moved to tears
by the Passion
every note the death of a star
(after St Matthew Passion, 1727 by Johann Sebastian Bach)
—A A Marcoff
troubled times
the angel
chained to the earth
(after the sculpture Angel of the North, 1998 by Antony Gormley)
—Basem Farid
dandelions—
shoestrings of Alice’s shoes
loosening
(after the book Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, 1865 by Lewis Carroll)
—Ikuyo Yoshimura
bills due—
in my dream
the endless stairs
(after the lithograph Relativity, 1953 by M.C. Escher)
—Michael Dylan Welch
recalling Blow Up
the movie in which the wind
was the main character
(after the film Blow Up, 1966; dir. by Antonioni)
—Michael Fessler
red roses too
the scars
on his lips
(after the song What a Wonderful World, 1967 by Louis Armstrong)
—Caroline Skanne
after shock…
the new batteries
in his hearing aid
(after the painting The Scream, 1893 by Edvard Munch)
—Brendon Kent
full moon
on the sea surface
turtles
(after the book My Family and Other Animals, 1956 by Gerald Durrell)
—Vessislava Savova
jackdaws in snow
thumbing through
all our dreams
(after the woodblock print Crows in Winter, 1925 by Ito Sozan)
—Alan Summers
Underwater world…
on the surface fractal art
of a sunny day
(after the painting The Elements by Christ Postle)
—Valeria Barouch
night drive
silvered arms of trees
and Chopin
(after Nocturne Op. 9, No.1, 1832 by Frédéric Chopin)
—Marta Chociłowska
small black clad figure
poised on the drawbridge
a threshold in time
(after the painting Le Pont-levis, 1888 by Vincent van Gogh)
—Diana Webb
his labour of love
now bottled in factories
a boza seller’s last call
(after the novel A Strangeness in My Mind, 2014 by Orhan Pamuk)
—Madhuri Pillai
persona
winter starts from Bergman’s
black and white
(after the film Persona, 1966; dir. by Ingmar Bergman)
—Vladislav Hristov
a dark square
draws the eye
into the eternal
(after the painting In the Patio IV (Black Door), 1948 by Georgia O’Keeffe)
—Charles Trumbull
umbilical pole
on the belly of the sky —
Jiu river reversed
(after the sculpture The Endless Column, 1937 by Constantin Brâncuși)
—Radu Şerban
silence
on the rusty tracks
hurrying trains still echoing
(after the novel The Town and the City, 1950 by Jack Kerouac)
—Zornitza Harizanova
just a sip of absinthe
and her inner trip begins
crowded way, lonely soul
(after the painting Absinthe, 1875–1876 by Edgar Degas)
—Auricéia Dumke
jade coloured mist
the master’s sword
alive in his hands
(after the film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, 2000; dir. by Ang Lee)
—Ron C. Moss
‘All my loving’
falling in step
with the busker’s tune
(after the song All my loving, 1963 by the Beatles)
—Andrew Shimield
cut outs
the circus of night
meets the bodied moon
(after the lithograph Eight Silhouettes, 1946 by Pablo Picasso)
—Kath Abela Wilson
December 2021 – Haiku About Libraries
under the bed
was the best darkness ever
hidden library
—Elizabeth Moura
taking me far
from here
library
—Dan Burt
slow night
at the library
flip-flops
—Ann K. Schwader
morning heat
reaching into the library
the smell of the sea
—Sandra Simpson
poems chalked
on the library walk—
april rain
—Sondra J. Byrnes
library entrance
the lapping tongues of puppies
at a silver bowl
—Jo Balistreri
library entrance
the lapping tongues of puppies
at a silver bowl
—Jo Balistreri
public library
the little girl skips
to the door
—Bill Waters
story hour
we fall further down
the rabbit hole
—John McManus
library . . .
all the haiku books
checked out
—Pamela A. Babusci
dust motes . . .
the librarian’s lingering
shh!
—Mark E. Brager
library silence—
a spider skitters cautiously
through Virginia Woolf
—Noor Khalsa
a new library
where the old one stood—
my overdue book
—Maureen Sexton
scattered petals . . .
the thud of my books
in the book drop
—Michael Dylan Welch
spring lockdown—
the library windows stare
into the emptiness
—Goran Gatalica
closed library
the summer sun slips
across the shelves
—Debbi Antebi
still in the books
from the library
someone’s cologne
—Susan Burch
surrounded by mysteries library cat
—Roberta Beach Jacobson
don’t want to know
the rest of this story
book return
—Jenn Ryan-Jauregui
dropbox
the returned book’s
tattered pages
—Jone Rush MacCulloch
overdue
the librarian’s
smile
—John Stevenson
library duty
a surprisingly interesting
book about woodlice
—Tony Beyer
city library
so much text
messaging
—Cameron Elliot
library café—
we swap lost key stories
as my coffee cools
—Alan Summers
library window—
the butterfly
opens its wings
—Pamela Cooper
Cellophane glistens,
crinkles like wrapping; open
each book like a gift.
—Jessica Whipple
alone in the library
I open
to autumn
—Kath Abela Wilson
closing time
winter dusk slides down
the book drop
—Roberta Beary
ghost orchid
a book from the stacks
whispers to me
—Christine L. Villa
rubbing my finger
down the book’s spine
dust from before i was born
—Zee Zahava
the last page missing
from the library book—
late autumn evening
—Stella Pierides
retired librarian
unfolding all
the dog-eared pages
—Terri L. French