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

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

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


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


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

Haibun Today, June 2016

November 05, 2016


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

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

the words I don't know

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

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

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

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

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

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
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

for her return
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