Music and Sound Haiku

First published individually in various journals, as indicated. Please note that many of these haiku and senryu list only partial publication credits. I assembled these poems on the themes of music and sound in 2008 to be selected for a performance at Seattle’s Folklife music festival.



a chime of bells

across the snowy field—

          the horses breath

Frogpond 18:4, Winter 1995, page 12



a crab apple

from the highest branch

rattles down the rain spout

Brussels Sprout; Dogwood Blossoms 8, June 1994; William J. Higginsons Haiku World (Kodansha, 1996)



a table for one—

          leaves rustle

in the inner courtyard

Mayfly 25, May 1998



after the shooting star—

     a single note

          from the wind chime

Mayfly 12, July 1991



between songs . . .

     pick marks

     on an old guitar

Frogpond 20:2, September 1997, page 31



blue moon—

drips from the awning

keeping time

Heron 2:4, October 1998



cathedral bells . . .

the chestnut vendors

steaming cart

Shiki Internet Haiku Contest, 1997 Runner-Up



Christmas concert—

     in unison

the whole chorus inhales

Frogpond 18:4, Winter 1995, page 22, in the “Angels We Have Heard On High” sequence



cotton flowers—

the rise and fall of voices

from the country church

Sunbreak trifold, 2007



crackling beach fire—

we hum in place of words

we cant recall

Heron’s Nest 6:11, December 2004, Editors Choice; Bullseye trifold, 2005



dense fog—

a Christmas song

from the carillon

Frogpond 18:4, Winter 1995, page 22, in the “Angels We Have Heard On High” sequence



distant church bells . . .

a sparrows breath

          lost in the holly berries

Frogpond 20:3, December 1997, page 14



distant train sound—

ink from the lost cat poster

runs in the rain

Acorn 1, Fall 1998



downtown rain

the jazzman

plays his sax

Frogpond 14:2, Summer 1991, page 13



drifting off

the Greyhounds wipers

in and out of rhythm

Boston Haiku Society News, June 2001



dripping from the gutter,

     autumn rain

spins the bicycle peddle

Frogpond 16:2, Fall–Winter 1993, page 12



empty silo—

spring wind pops the metal

in and out

Modern Haiku 22:2; Midwest Haiku Anthology (Brooks Books, 1992); Woodnotes 15, Winter 1992; Global Haiku (Iron Press/Mosaic Press, 2000)



first day of school—

I eat my buckwheat pancakes

in silence

Snapshots 7, 2000



first snow . . .

the childrens hangers

clatter in the closet

Woodnotes 23, Winter 1994; Shreve Memorial Library (Shreveport, Louisiana) Electronic Poetry Network, 30 December 1997; Snapshots 4, October 1998, Third Best of Issue; Cor van den Heuvel’s The Haiku Anthology (Norton: third edition, 1999); John Barlow and Martin Lucas’s New Haiku (Snapshots Press, 2002)



found in the attic,

granddads pocket watch

ticks once in my hand

Mayfly 26, December 1998



hospital waiting room—

the drinking fountain

stops humming

Mayfly 38, Winter 2004; Inside the Mirror (2005 Red Moon Anthology, Red Moon Press, 2006), page 75; Bullseye trifold, 2005; Shreve Memorial Library (Shreveport, Louisiana) Electronic Poetry Network,
6–8 October 2006



jazz in the park—

the babys cowlick

bobbing with the beat

Mayfly 27, June 1999



morning bird song—

my paddle slips

into its reflection

Modern Haiku 24:1, Winter–Spring 1993; Cor van den Heuvel’s The Haiku Anthology (Norton: third edition, 1999)       +



mothers pots and pans

forgotten in the sand box—

a mid-summer rain

2006 Tokutomi Memorial Haiku Contest, Honourable Mention; Sunbreak trifold, 2007



outdoor concert—

the bobbing flute

keeps catching the sun

Brussels Sprout 11:2, May 1994



rings on the counter     the customers repeated joke

South by Southeast 5:3, 1998



ripples in the tidepool—

a quieter ocean

in my childs shell

Heron’s Nest 9:2, June 2007; Sunbreak trifold, 2007



scattered petals . . .

the thud of my books

in the book drop

Frogpond 22:2, 1999, page 8; Shreve Memorial Library (Shreveport, Louisiana) Electronic Poetry Network, 4 March 1998



shooting star


    shooting star

Modern Haiku 34:1, Winter–Spring 2003



squawk of a jay—

walking sticks left

at the trailhead

Acorn 5, Fall 2000



still no answer

just a fly . . .


Haiku Quarterly (Arizona) 2:2, Summer 1990, page 22



the buskers guitar pick

dropped into the hole . . .

a gentle rain

Snapshots 7, 2000



the pattern of hammers

in the grand piano . . .

warmth from the fire

Mariposa 9, Autumn/Winter 2003



     the silence between us

a quail finds its way

   through the underbrush

Modern Haiku 32:1, Winter–Spring 2001; Loose Thread (2001 Red Moon Anthology, Red Moon Press, 2002)



tourists talking

in several languages—

the glassblower exhales

2003 HPNC San Francisco Contest; Tug of the Current (2004 Red Moon Anthology, Red Moon Press, 2005), page 77



wet beach sand—

a sandpipers song

of footprints

See Haiku Here: Digital Haiga Gallery 2 (haiga by Kuniharu Shimizu)



winter fog—

from somewhere the squeak

of a neighbors garage door

Geppo 28:1



a leaf falls

from the greenhouse ficus

clap of thunder

Heron’s Nest 1:4, December 1999



a meadowlarks call

amid a flurry of leaves . . .

the woodpath turns

Woodnotes 10, Autumn 1991



a pile of hail

at the rain spouts mouth

a young dog, barking

Black Bough 4, 1994



a red toyon berry

at the trails edge—

the tinkle of a stream

Captain Haiku website, 1997, in “Thornewood Poems” sequence



a robins song     the next hospital bed now empty

Frogpond 21:3, 1998, page 8



    a sheet of newspaper

scrapes along the sidewalk

    till it folds into a puddle

Heron 2:4, October 1998, in “The Night Watchman” sequence



after the storm

          wind chimes

                    in the grass

(for Hal Roth)

Tidepool 8, 1991, page 64



aging rock star—

a hearing aid

in each ear

Frogpond 15:1, Spring–Summer 1992, page 23



an old fiddle case

takes my coins

and the rain

Brussels Sprout 11:2, May 1994



breath of wind—

a blind mans hand

touches the chime

Heron 2:4, October 1998



Christmas Eve—

Dads old snore

through the guest room wall

Modern Haiku 38:2, Summer 2007, page 72



click of the bolt—

    the siamese cat

          bends around the door

Shreve Memorial Library (Shreveport, Louisiana) Electronic Poetry Network, 8 October 2001



click of the camera

      hollow of the castle step

collecting rain

Heron 1:2, April 1997



cloudy day—

a magpie squawks

from the sundial

Heron 2:4, October 1998



cold apartment—

through the long night

a neighbours cough

Frogpond 18:4, Winter 1995, page 18



deep red sunset

on Christmas Eve—

the phones sudden ring

Heron 2:4, October 1998



disconnected phone—

the curl of cream

in steaming coffee

Upstate Dim Sum 2003/I



distant traffic hum—

the stone buddhas

moss-filled crevice

Heron’s Nest 2:6, June 2000



distant train . . .

in the morning mist

the loon stops paddling

Snapshots 7, 2000



driving home

with the radio on,

I miss my exit

Woodnotes 12, Spring 1992, in “Darkened by Shadow” haibun



golden gate park

teen with a boom box—

mime covers his ears

Fig Newtons: Senryu to Go (Press Here, 1993)



gusting autumn wind—

the telephone ringing

in the burning house

Mayfly 20, November 1995



her last breath . . .

the strings vibrating

on her dusty harp

(for Elizabeth Searle Lamb)

Heron’s Nest 7:1, March 2005



home from work—

a scuffed baseball

among shards of glass

Haiku Splash; Mike Schacht’s Fan Magazine (Baseball Haiku) (Fan Magazine, 1998)



                in the distance

             a car horn sounds

. . . a pencil clatters to the floor

Heron 2:4, October 1998, in “The Night Watchman” sequence



jays squawk

from redwood tops—

the hush of distant traffic

Captain Haiku website, 1997, in “Thornewood Poems” sequence



jazz club—

the waitress stops

to undo a button

Modern Haiku 27:1, Winter–Spring 1996



late-afternoon sun—

jumping in the leaf pile

to hear the crunch

Captain Haiku website, 1997, in “Thornewood Poems” sequence; Haiku Light, November 1998



late into the night

the conversation on philosophy

uh . . . huh

Woodnotes 31, Autumn 1997, in “Uh-Huh” rengay



moonless night—

her guard dog barks

at the new husband

Fig Newtons: Senryu to Go (Press Here, 1993)



October afternoon—

the sound of an oak leaf

falling through branches

Frogpond 18:3, Autumn 1995, page 6



open sky . . .

the wounded call

of a snow goose

Midwest Haiku Anthology (Brooks Books, 1992)



our last hug

at your doorway . . .

the clock, ticking

Bottle Rockets 2:1, Fall/Winter 2000



our rhythmic breathing

a bee slips deeper

into the fuchsia

Modern Haiku 24:3, Fall 1993; Hiroaki Sato’s Erotic Haiku (IBC Publishing, 2004; Stone Bridge Press, 2005), 35



ringing church bell—

moonlight dimmed

by a gentle snowfall

Bullseye trifold, 2005



ringing phone—

the bathroom scale

recenters itself

2003 Haiku Canada Drevniok Award, Honourable Mention



roar of a missed bus—

the stone I kicked

falls into a storm drain

From a Kind Neighbor (Haiku Society of America, 1997)



scraping bottom

on a sandy shoal,

bright red canoe

(for Robert Spiess)

Modern Haiku 33:3, Autumn 2002



sheet lightning—

the fawns hoof

snaps a twig

Acorn 4, Spring 2000



sound of spring rain—

a drip clings

to the shower-head

Heron 1:2, April 1997



spring birdsong . . .

unopened the longest,

the heaviest present

Birthday Tomorrow (Two Autumns Press, 1998)



sudden lightning—

     the street mime


Modern Haiku 29:2, Summer 1998; Snow on the Water (1998 Red Moon Anthology, Red Moon Press, 1999); Haijinx 1:1, 2001



summer afternoon—

the sodas sound

changes as I drink

Heron’s Nest 4:7, July 2002



summer breeze . . .

a tin-can phone call

from treehouse to treehouse

Frogpond 19:2, September 1996, page 26



summer twilight . . .

after the campfire

star songs

Haiku Quarterly (Arizona) 3:3, Autumn 1991, page 30



temple blossoms . . .

the deep tones

of wind bells

Brussels Sprout 10:3, September 1993



the black cricket—


in my rusted pail

Woodnotes 30, Autumn 1996



the clackity-clack

of the last roller-coaster—

a crescent moon

2003 Haiku Canada Drevniok Award, Honourable Mention



the grandfather clock

ticking in the library . . .

a bowl of ripe pears

Black Bough 6, 1995



the gulls cry—

     the shape of the wave

     before it curls

Frogpond 18:2, Summer 1995, page 8



the siren stops

at the draped body—

hopscotch markings

Haiku Light Website, April 2000



the telephone rings . . .

beads of water

join on the shower rail

Frogpond 22:1, 1999, page 45



the waiter interrupts

our argument on abortion—

a choice of teas

Bullseye trifold, 2005



the web between stumps—

a tree frog answers

the pond frog

Captain Haiku website, 1997, in “Thornewood Poems” sequence



voices on the trail . . .

the heap of deadwood

clogging the stream

Captain Haiku website, 1997, in “Thornewood Poems” sequence; Haiku Light (November 1998); Haijinx 1:1, 2001; Shreve Memorial Library (Shreveport, Louisiana) Electronic Poetry Network, 20 March 2003