December 28, 2016

empty field
a forgotten mitten
clutches snow


Akitsu Quarterly, Winter 2016

December 26, 2016

just when we thought
she'd live forever
starlight


hedgerow 97

December 22, 2016

pooling where the creek bends fish


tinywords 16.1

December 20, 2016

spare change
my conscience empties
my pocket


bottle rockets 35

December 17, 2016

twilight
every bird
a crow


Under The Basho 2016

December 14, 2016

finger paint
sunlight spreads
across her shirt


Bamboo Hut, Fall 2016

December 07, 2016

head lice
I pick through my son's
report card


Failed Haiku, issue 6

December 04, 2016

rustling leaves
the sound of children
after dark


Wild Plums 2.2

December 02, 2016

darkness ...
her name slips
into it

Acorn 37

November 27, 2016

Donor

She pokes the needle in my arm.  My blood fills one vial, and then a second.  "I feel faint", I tell her as everything goes black.

moon walk
the weightlessness
of shade


the other bunny, 2016

November 20, 2016

Back Door

My parents' street has squirrels, but not so many children.  There used to be lots of children.  I remember.  I might have been one of them.

alley cat
the route to school
nobody knew


Failed Haiku, Issue 6

November 11, 2016

Drought

I crease the page, fold its shadow inside.  Peeling it back, the light returns again.  Open and close, open and close.  The one thing I don't see is a poem.

I spit on the rocks
where the creek ran
summer


Haibun Today, June 2016

November 05, 2016

Huntsmen

During recess, a colony of gulls circled over the schoolyard.  We chased the birds, armed with stones, trying to be first to knock one from the sky.  One by one, the stones, and our interest, fell.  We moved on to other games.

grocery list
our hunt for dinner
in the freezer aisle


Contemporary Haibun Online, Spring 2016

October 29, 2016

candle smoke
the afterlife
of prayer


Modern Haiku 47.3

October 22, 2016

autumn dusk
we sit in the darkness
of each other


Prune Juice 19

October 15, 2016

robin song
the length of morning
shadows


Presence 55

October 09, 2016

milk carton
the smiling child missing
a tooth


Failed Haiku, volume 4

October 01, 2016

You play guitar
for our guests
and I back you
with the percussion
of my beating heart.


there's a poetic
moment here
but I'm too angry
to clearly
fuckin' see it


My first two published poems, from Poetry Nook Volume 2, three years ago this month.

September 24, 2016

heavy snow
I shovel the morning
out of my day


A Hundred Gourds,  March 2016

September 17, 2016

singing
the words I don't know
loudest


bottle rockets 34 

September 10, 2016

night train
a whistle sounds
from the toy box


hedgerow 84

August 27, 2016

big game
he hangs his hat
on an antler


Failed Haiku Volume 3

August 21, 2016

dusk
the last orange
deeper in the bowl


A Hundred Gourds June 2016

August 14, 2016

chiffon strap
the immodesty
of moonlight


hedgerow 78

August 07, 2016

mountain lake
the pull of oars
on starlight


cattails May 2016

July 31, 2016

garbage day
the neighbourhood littered
with gulls


Yanty's Butterfly

July 23, 2016

midday sun
he steps around
dad's shadow


hedgerow 73

July 16, 2016

no peeling
back the starfish
summer's end


Frogpond 39.1

July 09, 2016

pillbox
she divides
by zero


Bones 9

July 03, 2016

shadow dawn
I start to hate
yesterday's poems


failed haiku v. 1 I. 3

June 25, 2016

u        n
 z      i
   p p
     i
    n
    g
  her
 dress
    f
    a
    l
    l
    s

tinywords 15.2

June 18, 2016

Father's Day
she gives me a break
from the kids


cattails Sept 2015

June 11, 2016

out of my arm
I pluck
the bee's death


bottle rockets 34

June 04, 2016

night winds
I let her go
to voicemail


Frogpond 39.1

May 28, 2016

morning light
a sparrow's shadow
crosses the blinds


hedgerow 61

May 21, 2016

Banff Trail
he shoots a moose
with his iPhone


failed haiku v.1 i.1

May 15, 2016

night fog
I lose my bearings
standing still


brass bell, Dec 2015

May 07, 2016

sun spots
a butterfly
bursts on my windshield


Yanty's Butterfly, 2016

April 30, 2016

morning commute
the horizon bright
with headlights


A Hundred Gourds March 2016

April 23, 2016

date night
I run a comb through
my reflection


failed haiku v. 1 i. 1

April 16, 2016

October rain
Captain America
shields his candy


bottle rockets 34

April 09, 2016

splashing
in the birdbath
April rain

cattails Jan. 2016

April 02, 2016

back roads
we drive further
into ourselves


Yanty's Butterfly

March 27, 2016

railroad tracks our path through the woods


hedgerow 61

March 19, 2016

night shift
the grocer feeds a family
of mice


failed haiku, volume 1, issue 1

March 13, 2016

freed
of its cage
of ribs


Modern Haiku 47.1

March 06, 2016

a missile
the width of my finger
on the button


bottle rockets 34

February 28, 2016

all the things
I thought I knew
these dying
leaves
brittle in my fingers


Bright Stars 7

February 21, 2016

trying to
clear a path from
the past
yesterday's snow
heavy in his shovel


hedgerow 20

February 14, 2016

watching
for her return
another
snowflake melts
on my window


hedgerow 20

February 07, 2016

speeding through
a yellow light
that old
desire to be
anywhere but here


Atlas Poetica 21

January 31, 2016

a la-z-boy
left by the curb
with no
words between us
I read my wife's mind


Atlas Poetica 21

January 24, 2016

al niente
mom's piano
up for sale


A Hundred Gourds, Dec 2015

January 17, 2016

autumn dawn
the apple tree
ripe with robins


A Hundred Gourds, Dec 2015

January 10, 2016

night fishing
he casts a line
at last call


Prune Juice, November 2015

January 03, 2016

financial times
the red light district
in the black


Prune Juice, Nov. 2015