Shintai Haiku, page 2
WHR August 2020
Shintai Haiku
Page 2
rain
the shining smile
of a forecaster
Nikolay Grankin
In northern gardens,
rhubarb grows so fast it squeaks;
weeds still grow faster.
Gail Greenwood
this thing on my back
unseen but does it grow
it's small yet heavy
Jim Grotkowski
white birch
cut in the bark
the heart still growing
Mona Iordan
chiffon dress
dotted with stars –
she is his sky
Anne-Marie Joubert-Gaillard
July 14th-
her smile her voice her youth
fireworks
Anne-Marie Joubert-Gaillard
lazy dawn
curling deep in the comfort
of familiar birdsong
Kat Lehmann
shortcut through the field—
stopped by one prickly thistle
after another
Priscilla H. Lignori
bookstore nook—
an old man’s
soft snores
Carole MacRury
fully drenched
the rain of innocence
of the child
Kumarendra Mallick
earthquake ceased…
a watchdog doesn’t want
to enter its house
Tomislav Maretić
Cats know how to live
Alert to every moment
In complete repose
Marjorie Miles
arguing …
a sugar cube melting
in the tea
Daniela Misso
good neighbor--
his peach blooms
outside my window
Ashish Narain
loneliness –
an island
of hapless settlers.
Rimi Nath
abandoned spider’s web:
insects keep dying
in it.
Kynpham Sing Nongkynrih
beneath
blue hour moons . . .
secret lovers
Veronika Zora Novak
the family tree
a memory of life
before exile
Franjo Ordanić
long journey home
he wipes the road
from his face
Vandana Parashar
A pond full of mud
Above the water’s surface
The lotus flower
Emanuela Podda-Ankrom
an old corsage--
withered like me, harboring
memories
Sondra Rosenberg
a black stingray
perfectly still on reef sand
becomes my stillness
Bruce Ross
safely ashore
the refugee hugs
her damp rag doll
Cynthia Rowe
too quiet
on my qwerty keyboard—
the night moth
Ernesto P. Santiago
squirrel-proof
we buy a bird feeder
that isn't
Debbie Strange
the ripe fig
just out of reach -
a blackbird’s chuckle
Nick T
commuting to
the home office -
he still arrives late
Nick T
the tock tock tock
of the clock clock clock
the drop drop drop of rain
Carrie Ann Thunell