Vanguard Haiku, page 2

WHR Autumn 2020

Vanguard Haiku

Page 2

Zatsui, Haiku of Merit

Continued

quarantine

in a children's room

fairy tales spreading

Marta Chocilowska

detached lovers

the scent of bloomy linden

that's all they have

Marta Chocilowska

self-isolation

turning my balcony

into a greenhouse

Cezar Ciobika

Breaking the lockdown –

mass gathering of verses

on the paper.

Vassileios Comporozos

Dementia –

his mind on lockdown

for three years now

Vassileios Comporozos

The fish in the bowl

knows her story in detail -

abused woman

Vassileios Comporozos

scent of spring

lovers on daily walks

keep their distance

Vera Constantineau*

virus-emptied church

at the edge of Mary's skirt

a mouse appears

Vera Constantineau

June bride

virtuously distanced

in the church courtyard

Vera Constantineau

after the service

the graveyard buzzes

with bees and butterflies

Vera Constantineau

lockdown

talking to my son

about life

Maria Concetta Conti

listening

to my prayer

crickets chirping

Maria Concetta Conti

unmasked beachcombers

walk the sands, skip through the waves

death in every breeze

Nancy Cook

fingers try to touch

through window glass and loved ones

say good byes by phone

Nancy Cook

dark days, moonless nights

nurses sleep alone in cars

dreams of suicide

Nancy Cook

dry cough she mutters allergies

Bill Cooper

lockdown

each day the swim

a little longer

Bill Cooper

midnight

every light on

in virology

Bill Cooper

Kids going to school

Drawn to voices in their rooms

While I videoconference

Tony Daly

corona outbreak -

in my drawers

piles of love poems

Ana Drobot

social distance -

the roses are planted

apart

Ana Drobot

our conversation

face masks hinder

eyes working overtime

Martin Esposito

masking their faces

each day a costume party

they’d rather avoid

Vic Fleming

social distancing,

index case, patient zero—

terms … freshly … growing

Vic Fleming

padlocked fence

two squirrels play

in an empty schoolyard

Jay Friedenberg

shuttered storefronts

the peonies

still open for business

Jay Friedenberg

self-isolation

the unending wail

of ambulance sirens

Jay Friedenberg

candlelight vigil

the police

take a knee

Jay Friedenberg

she pricks my finger

takes my blood pressure

breakfast grows cold

William Scott Galasso

swans glide in canals

gondolas and tourists gone

dolphins too return

Marianne Gambaro

spring lockdown —

the library windows stare

into the emptiness

Goran Gatalica

end of lockdown

the twinkle of stars

in the night sky

Eufemia Griffo

counting

the rotations of fan -

self quarantine

Kinshuk Gupta

shut down -

only squirrels

visit the temple

Kinshuk Gupta

the world in turmoil

watching grass grow

in my backyard

John J. Han

pestilence

the echo of cicadas

in empty streets

John J. Han

a new pastime:

watching the shapes and colors

of face masks

John J. Han