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Per Diem Archive: N. Dadhwal 2018, Memory

Remembrance of Time Past: Use of Memory in Forming Haiku

Read each poem carefully, let it recreate its reality in you, mull it over, and consider the role memory might have played in its creation… And remember to enjoy!

Author: Michael Dylan Welch
an old woolen sweater
         taken yarn by yarn
                     from the snowbank
Author: Gautam Nadkami
desert dunes —
I yearn for my home
along the riverbank
Author: Barbara Kaufmann
dried oregano —
adding a summer kigo
to my winter stew
Author: Iliyana Stoyanova
this rain 
I must have heard it 
somewhere before
Author: Richard Gilbert
trading a past
life regression for a
past life: rape
Author: Carole MacRury
leaf fall —
how easily I slip
between seasons
Author: Alan Summers
am I the ghost
of a child who died before me?
autumn deepens
Author: Kala Ramesh
flowing river . . .
my mother recalls
India's partition
Author: Stephen Bailey
autumn dusk . . .
the descent of light
into its past
Author: Sandip Chauhan
stirring spices
into mama's chipped bowl . . .
Diwali feast
Author: Gillena Cox
detention lines —
“the way of the transgressor...”
chalked on the black board
Author: Sandi Pray
blueberry wine
last summer's fireflies
deep inside
Author: Rita Odeh
refugee camp —
sculpting the tree trunk
into a cross
Author: S. M. Abeles
pressed flower
I remember
being beautiful
Author: Pravat Kumar Padhy
cloud patches…
recalling my faint 
Author: Hazel Hall
birds stir –
morning ragas
in my chai
Author: Johannes S. H. Bjerg
sleeping through Beethoven's 5th
we left
the dead volcano
Author: Sheila Windsor
in this sweet-pea posy
suddenly the past
Author: Taro Aizu
As if tsunami
Had been a fabrication —
The calm sea in spring
Author: Marlene Mountain
ancient eras sometimes we'd say that's a first for a male
Author: Pat Geyer
chalk outline...
fading memory
of misspent youth
Author: Maire Morrissey-Cummins
kissing his forehead
for the last time
snow on the mountains
Author: Linda Papanicolaou
basket full of sun —
mother folds the morning's wash
clothespin by clothespin
Author: Kumarendra Mallick
home visit —
I search my father's footprints
on the village road
Author: Kath Abela Wilson
Buson's grave
a wet hydrangea 
bows its head
Author: Shernaz Wadia
vague shapes
beckon through the thicket…
Author: A. Thiagarajan
autumn evening
I lightly touch
my son’s first scribbles
Author: Veronika Zora Novak
for the scent of sunlight
in her hair
Author: K. Ramesh
scent of a pain balm
in the railway station...
memories of my father
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