Haiku Society of America

Museum of Haiku Literature Award Collection

This award is made possible by the generosity of the Museum of Haiku Literature in Tokyo, Japan. The HSA Executive Committee awards a cash prize for the best haiku in each issue of our literary journal, Frogpond. The issue number above each poem indicates the issue in which the winning poem first appeared.

Winners by Year:
2010 | 2009 | 2008 | 2007 | 2006 | 2005 | 2004 | 2003 | 2002 | 2001 | 2000 | 1999 | 1998 | 1997 | 1996 | 1995 | 1994 | 1993 | 1992 | 1991 | 1990 | 1989 | 1988 | 1987 | 1986 | 1985 | 1984 | 1983 | 1982 | 1981

2010

Frogpond 33.1 xxxxx




		[Top]

2009

Frogpond 32.1 xxxxx

	Frogpond 32.2 xxxxx

		Frogpond 32.3 xxxxx
		[Top]

2008

Frogpond 31.1 Ian Daw distant singing— the winter stars almost touch

	Frogpond 31.2 xxxxx

		Frogpond 31.3 xxxxx
		[Top]

2007

Frogpond 30.1 Ian Daw distant singing— the winter stars almost touch

	Frogpond 30.2 xxxxx

		Frogpond 30.3 xxxxx
		[Top]

2006

Frogpond XXIX:1 Hilary Tann after sunset . . . the shapes of the clouds

		Frogpond XXIX:2 Carolyn Hall circle of pines God absent from the wedding vows

	Frogpond XXIX:3 Eve Luckring open scissors beside a vase of water
	[Top]

2005

Frogpond XXVIII:1 Duro Jaiye spring rain— milk in her left breast unexpectedly sweeter

	Frogpond XXVIII:2 Marcus Larsson spring evening the children's promise not to get cold

		Frogpond XXVIII:3 Mike Spikes autumn morning— repainting our bedroom the color it was

2004

Frogpond XXVII:1 Robert Gilliland jackknifed rig the trooper waves us into wildflowers

	Frogpond XXVII:2 Peggy Willis Lyles the numbness of scar tissue— forsythia

		Frogpond XXVII:3 Nancy S. Young autumn wind in his sweater pocket the missing button

2003

Frogpond XXVI:1 Burnell Lippy squash vines long and hollow the last late evenings

	Frogpond XXVI:2 Joann Klontz dim light the night nurse describes the rain

		Frogpond XXVI:3 Lenard D. Moore late summer black men spreading tar on the side road

2002

Frogpond XXV:I Valerie Matsumoto knowing your cough but not your face— invalid neighbor

	Frogpond XXV:2 Tom Painting spring plowing a flock of blackbirds turns inside out

		Frogpond XXV:3 Burnell Lippy squash vines long and hollow the last late evenings

2001

Frogpond XXIV:1 John O’Connor (NZ) dusk— up to my ears in birdsong

	Frogpond XXIV:2 Robert Mainone all around light falling in a field of fireflies

		Frogpond XXIV:3 Fay Aoyagi Independence Day— I let him touch a little bit of me

2000

Frogpond XXIII:1
Makiko

snake hunting the boy sheds his shirt


		Frogpond XXIII:2 Carolyn Thomas whistling he hangs the birdhouse he built

Frogpond XXIII:3 Stanford M. Forrester summer evening fanning myself with a paper moon

1999

Frogpond XXII:1 Charles Easter close lightning the metallic taste in my mouth

	Frogpond XXII:2 Dimitar Anakiev garden work— talking to each other back to back

		Frogpond XXII:3 Charles Easter dry heat— to the same withered flower a bee returns

1998

Frogpond XXI:1 Yu Chang starry night— biting into a melon full of seeds

	Frogpond XXI:2 Peggy Willis Lyles I brush my mother’s hair the sparks

		Frogpond XXI:3 Harriet Axelrad snowflakes glued to the kindergarten window— no two alike

1997

Frogpond XX:1 Tom Clausen undefended: in the cold rain their snow fort

	Frogpond XX:1 Ebba Story faint city stars … the moth’s copper dust in my palm

		Frogpond XX:2 Celia Stuart-Powles Father’s funeral Mother suddenly small

Frogpond XX:2 Robert Gibson porch swing now and then a breeze from the river

	Frogpond XX:3 Mark Alan Osterhaus January thaw the narrow path fading away

1996

Frogpond XIX:1 Anthony J. Pupello spring planting her refusal to compromise

	Frogpond XIX:2 Carol Purington Logging road— the pileated woodpecker flings its cry ahead

		Frogpond XIX:3 Hayat Abuza ill again a dry leaf across porch boards

1995

Frogpond XVIII:1 Ebba Story leaving the park— glimpses of cherry petals on the soles of shoes

	Frogpond XVIII:2 Matthew Louvière Lily pond with one step the snowy egret moves the moon

		Frogpond XVIII:3 Wally Swist the white v of a killdeer’s wings opening in the wake of its cry

Frogpond XVIII:4 R.A. Stefanac snow softening the night

1994

Frogpond XVII:1 Lenard D. Moore a pile of rocks shifting in spring rain the stiff old man

	Frogpond XVII:2 LeRoy Gorman getting louder the calf the auctioneer

		Frogpond XVII:3 Christopher Herold bird shadow from tree shadow to fence shadow

Frogpond XVII:4 Pamela A. Babusci i climb the mountain with my eyes never ending snow

1993

Frogpond XVI:1 (spring-summer issue) Kohjin Sakamoto the petals scatter over graves swept and unswept

	Frogpond XVI:1 (spring-summer issue) Kenneth Tanemura a single leaf falling and with it the morning dew

		Frogpond XVI:2 (fall-winter issue) Christopher Herold mountain rose— from thorn to thorn a spider’s line

Frogpond XVI:2 (fall-winter issue) Peter Yovu coming out of the woods— the sound of crickets, the empty sky

1992

Frogpond XV:1 (spring-summer issue) Alexis Rotella An old woman with bread waves the geese down from the sky.

	Frogpond XV:1 (spring-summer issue) George Swede over the earth’s edge they all go—the white clouds and the one sailboat

Frogpond XV:1 (spring-summer issue)
Elizabeth St Jacques

amish territory
(Shipshewana, Indiana)

long beards longer
black clothes darker
under july sun

amish gentleman's
warm smile brief . . .
my skirt long and plain

an amish grin
as he cycles past
the station selling gas

the gloom within
a handcrafts store . . .
dolls with missing faces

facing mirrors
long-skirted woman
and her amish child

music on the wind
an amish foot softly taps
and abruptly stops

late night camp . . .
now a gentle lullaby
horse hooves heading home

Frogpond XV:1 (spring-summer issue) Windswept Walk The first completed chain renku See also Michael Dylan Welch's Notes About Windswept Walk
windswept walk an orange leaf turns over
	Michael Dylan Welch June 6, 1990 Foster City, Calif.
skyward, the wild geese—their echo
	Adele Kenny June 12, 1990 Fanwood, N.J.
between her white teeth a cherry tomato explodes
	Emily Romano June 24, 1990 Boonton, N.J.
such boredom after the fireworks
	Alexis Rotella June 26, 1990 Mountain Lakes, N.J.
the black swan paddles the moon into its wake
	David E. LeCount June 30, 1990 La Honda, Calif.
a doe and her fawn hidden in shadow
	Elizabeth Searle Lamb July 7, 1990 Santa Fe, N.M
house at auction: all the lawn ornaments faded to grey
	Lee Gurga July 14, 1990 Lincoln, Illinois
I prefer some clouds the morning after surgery
	Hal Roth July 22, 1990 Vienna, Md.
giggles & respect kenichi's yard kanji beware of mountain crone
	Marlene Mountain August 2, 1990 Hampton, Tenn.
flowing from his wet brush grass words tickle her fancy
	Jane Reichhold August 6, 1990 Gualala, Calif.
buckets set up beside the bed the roof leaks
	Werner Reichhold August 7, 1990 Gualala, Calif.
heaven and earth together cradle sleep with gentle rain
	Elaine Sherlund August 10, 1990 Gualala, Calif.
tiny feet from the garden shower do a muddy stomp
	Caroline Sutherland August 12, 1990 Gualala, Calif.
luna wings stroke twilight tones of moth
	Penny Crosby August 13, 1990 Gualala, Calif.
after his hands so gentle
	anne mckay August 23, 1990 Vancouver, B.C.
placing seed potatoes eyes to the sky
	Joe Nutt September 4, 1990 Staunton, Va.
in her dark hair the blossom whisper white
	Elizabeth St Jacques September 11, 1990 Sault Ste. Marie, Ont
Clearing brush he finds someone's wedding ring
	Gloria H. Procsal September 18, 1990 Oceanside, Calif.
moving awry with the sunspot a widow spider
	Frederick Gasser 21 September 1990 Youngstown, Ohio
sioux medicine man dances his prayer
	Francine Porad September 25, 1990 Mercer Island, Wash.
men picketing a Chevy agency a child asks, "parade?"
	Paul O. Williams September 27, 1990 Belmont, Calif.
the blind man lifting his face to the sun
	Dave Sutter September 27, 1990 San Francisco, Calif.
Wind and Sea . . . tiny name on the painting
	vincent tripi September 30, 1990 San Francisco, Calif.
brilliant on the easel the meadow's wildflowers
	Charles B. Dickson October 31, 1990 Doraville, Ga.
Amapola recalling mother's perfume on Saturday nights
	Mitzi Hughes Trout November 5, 1990 Roswell, Ga.
"loneliest night of the week"— searching the stars for solace
	Geraldine C. Little November 22, 1990 Mt. Holly, N.J.
portmanteau taken out of storage, dark with dew
	Hiroaki Sato December 21, 1990 New York, N.Y.
Plane rises dear of the fog into profound darkness
	Doris Heitmeyer January 2, 1991 New York, N.Y.
Will we go hunting for the Blue Moon next New Year's Eve?
	Sydell Rosenberg January 7, 1991 Jamaica, N.Y
bleak January day forced narcissus showing white
	L. A. Davidson January 22, 1991 New York, N.Y.
first I saw her hair in the wind, then the wonder of her smile
	Virginia Brady Young February 15, 1991 Cheshire, Conn.
no way to stop hearing that old lovesong
	Sylvia Forges-Ryan February 19, 1991 North Haven, Conn.
florist shop door slowly swings shut closing out the street noise
	Karen Sohne March 5, 1991 N. Massapequa, N.Y.
at the tap of the baton . . .
	Minna Lerman June 1, 1991 Havertown, Pa.
both cats beside the big glass vase the chrysanthemums
	M. M. Nichols June 14, 1991 New York, N.Y.
gathered in a white apron seed for next spring's planting
	Lequita Vance June 23, 1991 Carmel, Calif.

Frogpond XV:2 (fall-winter issue)
Peter Duppenthaler

falling leaves
day by day
the house grows brighter

Frogpond XV:2 (fall-winter issue)
Wilma M. Erwin

darkening path
the white morning glories
lead the way

1991

Frogpond XIV:1 Sandra Fuhringer in a backyard two women folding sunlight into sheets

	Frogpond XIV:1 Cor van den Heuvel the billboard’s shadow a haiku/senryu sequence late autumn the billboard's shadow leans into the woods from the stream two mallards fly straight up through falling leaves new year's eve blizzard— a neon beer-sign glows behind the steamed window spring breeze the woods road is still wet under the pines the old watering can hangs one more rainbow among the roses the evening paper on the darkening lawn— first star a letter stuck in the 11th floor mail chute— summer night the blues singer tells how bad it is then the sax tells you too quiet afternoon— in the meadow, one daisy leans on another at the end of a tunnel in the clouds a sunlit billow crossing the tracks at twilight— the autumn wind chilly sunrise a strip of bark flutters on the lake-side birch twiddling my thumbs the sun goes down, the moon comes up winter drizzle— unloading a crate of live ducks behind the chinatown restaurant snow melts by the hardware counter— the squares of color in the paint catalog in the mirrors on her dress little pieces of my self a few blocks from the street festival— the evening quiet at the pow-wow— they pass out ordinary saltines for the ceremony while his passengers sleep, the bus driver watches dawn break by the lawn's edge, the dog barks at the darkness then looks back at me dead end— a few leaves circle in the headlights late at night— a woman alone in the restaurant addressing christmas cards snowy morning the barber appears in his mirrors moonrise the columbine still swinging changing pitchers— the base-runner looks up at a passing cloud in the subway the young conductor cues imaginary oboes climbing the stairs more slowly— autumn evening the frozen puddle— kids slide over a pattern of red leaves snow drifts above the bear's den starry night cold spring rain— a piece of grass sticks out of the birdhouse

Frogpond XIV:2 Ion Codrescu Up in the sky hardly heard, hardly seen: migrating birds

Frogpond XIV:3
Geraldine C. Little

Earth Day: Variations with Theme

sundawn
a flutter of mourning doves,
& poised, light-bathed, one faun
nearby, a bell tolls changes

mapletree buds,
their small shadows
in water-glazed mud
nearby, a bell tolls changes

white lilac
fragrantly exuberant
beside the porchdeck
nearby, a bell tolls changes

putting down a book
to listen to the god
in the half-cleared brook
nearby, a bell tolls changes

high noon
straight-up trunks of poplars shadowless
a foreshadowing ... soon, soon?
nearby, a bell tolls changes

watching a program
on Brazil’s rain forests,
anger poisons calm
nearby, a bell tolls changes

on the grass
two pitched-from-a-car beer cans.
unthinking ass!
nearby, a bell tolls changes

a cardinal's song
blends with the brilliant sunset.
surely, nothing's wrong?
nearby, a bell tolls changes

cicadas at dusk—
seventeen years hence, shall we see
substance or husk?
nearby, a bell tolls changes

in moonlight
swish of owl wings, this heartstab:
glitter can gloss blight
nearby, a bell tolls changes

Frogpond XIV:3
vincent tripi

First spring day
melting and melting and melting
tracks of the mountain man.

Frogpond XIV:3 Hiroaki Sato, Geraldine Little, Rod Willmot, anne mckay, Jerry Kilbride, Carol Wainright, Stephen Gould, Adele Kenny, Hal Roth, Ruth Eshbaugh, vincent tripi, Michael Dudley, Lee Scott. Green a-Glitter
1.	Green a-glitter fluttering in the sun: the wind shines	hs 5/24/86
2.	a butterfly’s shadow crosses the artist’s blank canvas
3.	the spare lines of a wishbone on the mauve plate	gl
4.	under the branches, toward the compost heap
5.	shovelfuls of stinking earth bring a whiff of incense	rw
6.	with a soft singing tongue these strangers in sanctuary
7.	so bright the night of seventh moon gathering strawberries cool and sweet	am
8.	red smudges of dawn on the curling river
9.	odor of tea rises in steam from the dragon pot	jk
10.	barely a glimpse of its ruby throat
11.	in the stillness the river drips from her paddle	cw
12.	under the surface tension, subsurface tension
13.	for a little time the dial tone after you’ve gone	sg
14.	washing your lips from the crystal glass
15.	beyond our silence a train whistle into the distance	ak
16.	through a pale blue haze the plummeting hawk
17.	sharp memories return an old fear the glare of sun on glass	hr
18.	honeymoon over his clothes in the moonlight
19.	on the rock net cast again deep brine waters	re
20.	sparkling: my scaly fish hands
21.	shore flowers without petals	md
22.	an aged odalisque breathes fire
23.	surfeited with tortellini: rain outside	hs
24.	faint perfume wafts from his hung-up damp coat
25.	out all night, the cat curls up in the closet’s darkness	gl
26.	my son is whispering with a snail-shell
27.	plasticine worms: their colors gone into sunset’s burn	rw
28.	at twilight the reapers’ last returning
29.	her scarlet skirt flaring to the fiddler’s tune	am
30.	film flaps to a stop in the projector
31.	afterimage of jane darwell’s eyes on california	jk
32.	a fly lands on the mirror … goes off again
33.	in the ochre vase seven lilies opened yesterday three today	cw
34.	the tabernacle. doors thrown wide
35.	Jesus Christ among guards the garden caught in shadows of the moon	sg
36.	on the unmarked grave a mockingbird
37.	checking locks as the rain begins	ak
38.	wet earth, the smell of it again she turns in her sleep
39.	a purple dawn last of the butter beans fill their pods	hr
40.	wintered reeds rattle words that pierce
41.	egret in flight onion skin pages turn over in the wind	re
42.	he wails the blues, trumpet player alone on the darkened stage
43.	“it’s nothing but an act” she shouts the dogwood turning red	is
44.	in a drunken torpor dream of stubborn love	hs
45.	she wakes to apple scent and reeling maple leaves	gl
46.	jobless, letting the dog run off in the moonless night	rw
47.	beyond greener pastures … that never were	am
48.	and yet woodstock still resonates	jk
49.	scatterflies on the window — the silence of bloodroot beneath the leaves	cw
50.	vigil lights dissolving old feuds	sg
51.	my own name last in the family Bible	ak
52.	another year ends snow dusted on the foothills	hr
53.	wind where the pines and blackness meet	re
54.	all night he listens for the wild geese	is
55.	occasional shots of Jack Daniels: Chattanooga
56.	no longer idyllic; few places are	hs
57.	votive lights shivering—all those earthquake Armenian dead
58.	seeding the compost pile with earthworms again	gl
59.	dark place where square grows round and words glow bright
60.	even in the computer a drift of yellow pollen	rw
61.	shaping the poem slowly
62.	a bright structure neon green	am
63.	planetarium music . . . the blind boy’s fingers land on the moon	rw
64.	across the milky way to sado in braille	jk
65.	coming up the coast the cry of snowgeese darkened by snow
66.	as if the tide broke free of the shore	cw
67.	under the peak, cold fog blows against petrified reeds
68.	uptrail, bristlecone looming and rimy	sg
69.	pale stars flickering over our snow angels
70.	called back in middle age to a childhood home	ak
71.	along the road to mother’s summer grasses already brown
72.	a piece of driftwood for the plastic bird	hr
73.	out of season amaryllis bloom blood red
74.	rustle of bracken cloud hidden moon reappears	re
75.	the mime’s hat a little hole large enough for crickets
76.	salmon’s tail river dancing	vt
77.	silvery fog moves in across the shore up the cliff
78.	wistful thoughts of youthful warmth	hs
79.	the fire leaps— my grandson’s first Christmas Eve laughter
80.	lights out all the stockings stuffed with starlight	gl
81.	so late, and on the pond someone skating— a gleam, a scrape
82.	a splash of sparks a whirring stone	rw
83.	centered by north light the potter’s wheel
84.	small dreams curve within her hands	am
85.	spectrums of color volley back into themselves paperweigh
86.	a shriek from somewhere at the masked ball	jk
87.	walking home at dawn a witch with a shoe in each hand
88.	on the pilings barnacles wait for the tide	cw
89.	groan and thunder of the stream at flood remote as childhood
90.	two last oar-swirls finally still	sg
91.	a kingfisher diving into the moon
92.	the golden hooves of the carousel horse	ak
93.	a plover circles — just beyond the sawgrass there are graves
94.	I miss the flash of her white teeth	hr
95.	between darkness and light the flutter of a moth
96.	the night’s sound where all the hard words go	re
97.	Hike up the mountain … the book about God weighs me down.
98.	Old footbridge … past looking	vt
99.	after heavy rain the moon appears, bright, over the marsh
100.	all the dreams linger, unfaded, still	hs 9/24/90

Frogpond XIV:4
Ruth Yarrow

night storm —
a deeper dark unrolls
across the prairie

Frogpond XIV:4
John J. Dunphy

Return to the Wall
The Vietnam Veterans Memorial, Washington, DC

removing her wedding ring
she brushes ¡t along
her husband's name

son of an MIA
the flag pin on his lapel
upside-down

woman touches a name
while looking at
an old photo

elderly couple
their faces reflected
over their son's name

man in a filthy army jacket
tries to scratch on
his name

a candle
left burning on the ground
its flame almost out

Note: "The Wall," born of the author’s first impressions of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, appeared in the November 1988 issue of Frogpond.

1990

Frogpond XIII:1 Frank K. Robinson anzio beach … another wave gathers and breaks

	Frogpond XIII:1 Elliot Richman 76A2103 How many dew drops make up these walls? On razor wire squats a crow— winter night The guards in their towers: silk worms in cocoons of light Black-uniformed winter fly greeting me behind bullet-proof glass Walls of ice deep in forests frozen frogponds My silver shackles— gossamer threads under these stars Old guard escorting me coughing like bullfrog cigarette smoke for breath Prison cat in shadows stalking the shaft of searchlight Capturing snowflake fireflies with my tongue Beating time with nightstick, cricket sound while I urinate Oh, winter moon, what have you done now keep-locked with the mountains? A thousand temple bells— the noise of the cell block Suddenly they all look like green bullfrogs! Decorating my cell again I notice roommate— a silverfish on my pillow From out of Henderson’s Haiku, my old wife’s photograph: cells doors automatically locking.

Frogpond XIII:2 Wally Swist soothing rain: the mown meadow releases pungence of mint

Frogpond XIII:2 anne mckay elizabeth st jacques september 88 october 89 british columbia ontario collecting early colors linked lines
and now the rains and grey silk rivers	a
river rocks collecting early colors	e
a silvered thimble too in the magpie's nest	a
blackwinged birds echoes zigzag orange	e
remembering the mark of zorro ...	a
midnight moon the cougar's intense eyes	e
catscradle quick between small fingers	a
daily grows the first snowman	e
but so few the carolers this year	a
streetcorner santas tambourines and bells	e
returning soon the gypsies the dance	a
now sun incites soft trickling songs	e
and again the seven days of poppies rushing red	a
on the female statue a blush of moss	e
this hourglass reminding me reminding me	a
... twenty aprils since your dandelion pleasures	e
spilling the wine bright drops of pizzicato	a
a mouse scurries from the silo	e

the clock strikes twelve … and all's well	a
monks in mantra file	e
always and softly the voice of the drum	a
rhythm met by moccasins	e
small water snake … consider the form the beauty	a
the carrot peel its curl	e
sharpening the knife his sly smile	a
she hums silver on her fingernails	e
this last night of august night of the halfmoon	a
tiny echoes her moonstone rosary	e
in the nave sparrow resting with ‘our lady of sorrows’	a
small bleached bones in a nest of leaves	e
forgotten now those songs from the children’s hour	a
clown tipping his invisible hat	e
dreamspinners drift away with dawn grey on grey	a
a cloud in the cup’s tealeaves	e
sealed and cool jars of blackberries and blue	a
her pride … this autumn ritual	a

Frogpond XIII:3 W.C. Ginn Butterfly shadows … not finding the butterfly

	Frogpond XIII:3 Edward J. Rielly Abandoned Farmhouse abandoned farmhouse: bird nest in the mail box also deserted abandoned farmhouse: wallpaper peeling back to my childhood abandoned farmhouse: something scratching inside the furnace abandoned farmhouse: the quiet bedroom where I feared the dark abandoned farmhouse: a yellowed grocery list taped to the counter top abandoned farmhouse: a moth flies out of the water faucet abandoned farmhouse: my daughter snaps pictures of our visit

Frogpond XIII:4 Tom Tico Into old pots and pans thrown out in the backyard— the musical rain

	Frogpond XIII:4 Anita Virgil New Orleans Wedding here & there in bare treetops mistletoe in a shabby motel all night treefrogs in rain cottonmouths in the swamp ... a house on stilts family get-together all the eyes all the feelers all the hands tearing shrimp morning in the French Quarter café au lait & beignets with sparrows the river wind blows into the Quarter & through his saxophone on the riverfront a stranger takes my smile the breeze off the Mississippi fills my skirt behind grillwork down darkness to sun in a hidden courtyard cool the alley through the grillwork swirls cat pee smell in the morning shops half the doorways fill with shade all the Mardi Gras colors in the masks in the houses on the iron lace balconies only flowers sunning from the suite dusk fills in the river & all the tiny lights are slow huge limbs of the live oak their reaching out over the young grass in a pecan grove wandering spring shadows cows & blackbirds parked on the runway its wings drooped a B-52 the winter sun the slow day ... in the empty motel corridor a stack of dirty dishes sundown in the empty bar the player-piano keys begin the big waitress departs the china teapot shakes January sun ... the cotton fields dotted with leftovers

1989

Frogpond XII:1
Ruth Yarrow

longest night—
his forehead burning
into my hand

Frogpond XII:1
Sanford Goldstein, Niigata, October 1987

Records of a Well-Polished Satchel: #6 Angles of Loneliness

what passion
you had, Akiko—
where can I put
even an inch
of tonight's anguish!

sucking
chocolate squares—
oh, it's a lonely beginning
this first night of return
to Japan

under this Basholess
pre-dawn sky
how rough
the angle of loneliness
along this eastern sea

bent
like a puzzle
in a child's hand,
that back before me
in the pre-dawn dark

is it a walking
umbrella?
immense the black
over that bent-against-the-wind
angle of loneliness

a crane
skipping before me
on this seaside road,
its leg
a karate lift?

I hug
the boy to me—
how brave he was to point and say
This is a pencil
This is a cup

on my office couch
I lean back,
back,
this Nescafe's
the length of my desire

in this bare
late-afternoon life
I make
my bare dinner
and set out fork and knife

wanting
to embrace
even a sleeve—
tonight's
lonely angle

Frogpond XII:2
Paul O. Williams

gone from the wood
the bird I knew
by song alone

Frogpond XII:2 The Bodners: Richard, Virginia, Gus, Gita Flashes of Sunset . . . All the Way Home
Flashes of sunset between the cars the eastbound freight
old railroad tracks bobbing sunflowers surround the turquoise outhouse
violet aster still bright behind me
in blue-black ocean night the ferry's churning white wake fades in the distance	Gita Bodner
after her phonecall following wet footprints back to the bath
hikers at dusk spilling with shadows out the canyon mouth
high country feeling the forest hidden in the dark
sleeping in his bed —a dream of her grandson's return	Richard Bodner
Honolulu airport breathing wet warm air sniffs of unknown flowers
road to Ooty: wrestling on the edge of the State Fisheries tank —two soaked monkeys
sunrise didj at Ulsoor Lake dobi-wallahs slap their morning loads on stone
mountain hotspring snowflakes sink in the rising steam	Gus Bodner
waking my daughter frost-flowers on the window from her breath
driving to meet our son —nighthawks fly before the storm cloud
past the plane's great wing a strip of thin grass shimmers in the jet wind
wet pavement the smell of sage all the way home	Virginia Bodner
Notes: didj/didjeridoo: an aboriginal instrument; dobi-wallahs: washer-persons

Frogpond XII:3
Andrew J. Grossman

on Lookout Rock
one step
to the red hawk

Frogpond XII:3
Gregory McNamee

Six Ways of Seeing Summer Rain

I
A red shaft of light
dances on your moist eyelids:
the searing morning.

II
Frog Mountain rises
to arch its back in the clouds:
unforeseen downpour.

III
Three men and three birds
stand still in the forest, all
surprised by rain.

IV
Rain like the Deluge:
a mudspattered Apache
sings in Cibecue.

V
The day hides itself
within a grove of aspen.
Thunder pursues it.

VI
Uprooted clouds:
Summer holds the pale mountains,
calls down the clear night.

Frogpond XII:4
Charles B. Dickson

cajun cabin …
the aroma of hot gumbo
floats on the bayou

Frogpond XII:4
Marian Olson

Beachfront Suicide: Reflections at Dusk

Gunshot!
The tide of gulls breaks
like a scattering wave

Gathering silence
in my mind is
the hardest thing to do

Against the wind's chill
I button my sweater
feet dug in sand

The sun slips low
a carnelian red paving
the water with dark light

How many wanderers
have followed the sun
down?

(The girl with the soul
of a gull
never came back)

Questions
purl like schools of fish
in dangerous waters

Questions
without breath without answers
a broken shell

1988

Frogpond XI:1 Nicholas Virgilio on the cardboard box holding the frozen wino: Fragile: Do Not Crush

	Frogpond XI:1 Doris Heitmeyer Wintering Over: New York Haiku From the fire escape the cry of the mourning dove wintering over New condominium its exhaust grate claimed by a new derelict Wind chill minus five the piercing whistles of the starlings The young mother stoops to warm the child's mittens between her gloves Between lace curtains the white cat's eyes follow a snowflake A crow flies down to land in the new snow its voice ringing Madison Avenue a row of ginkgoes mulched with old Xmas trees Suet on a string suspended from a snowy branch three sparrows make it spin In the shadow of office buildings, bagpiper's Amazing Grace

Frogpond XI:2 Ann Atwood Last night’s fading dream … On the blue teapot birds drift beyond the willows

	Frogpond XI:2 Johnny Baranski, 065811, Spring 1987 Shohomish County Jail Haiku For Karol Under cloudless skies; nuclear resister jailed missiles free to fly April sun slanting across the exercise yard jail-bar shadows Basketball stops in the exercise yard— convicts shoot the breeze This heat! snow-clad mountains framed by my jail cell window Little ladybug caught after visiting hours: doing jail time, too Starting a new month in Snohomish County Jail; same old tea bag Chilly June morning— in a spider web the jailhouse fly hangs Sixty day jail term— as it grows shorter my growing beard

		Frogpond XI:3 Alexis Rotella a swallowtail settles on the prize-winning quilt

	Frogpond XI:3 Frederick Gasser Walking Home on a Summer Afternoon summer afternoon— the priest takes a blue pencil from the blind man coming up through a gap in the city bridge. . a checkerspot butterfly backfire— a checkerspot in its sound shifts direction dog coming out with the cathedral crowd. . tail upward half way home pole shadows reach across the widening road train whistle— two jets wrap the sky with mist a block from home a pair of rain drops find my haiku notes

Frogpond XI:4 James Minor snow geese Sarah discovers the letter V

	Frogpond XI:4 Michael McNierney Revenant suddenly— twenty years later you taste the same through two marriages framed behind Beethoven your picture talking with him I taste you in the tea you serve on your porch only the breeze moves between us in the dark car the scent of you and the rainy fields juice from the apple runs into my beard as I wait for you in the mirror the only picture of us together your perfume— looking up startled at a stranger in the cold fireplace my last letter burning

1987

Frogpond X:1 Jerry Kilbride still in the taste of afternoon tea, my grandmother’s brogue

	Frogpond X:2 Eugene Warren [Gene Doty] a horse-drawn plow: sunflowers stand in the traces

		Frogpond X:3 Geraldine Clinton Little Eaves pulling sound from the wind

Frogpond X:4 Carol Dagenhardt walking alone the way oak leaves refuse to fall

1986

Frogpond IX:1 Jane Reichhold a steady rain the dentist’s drill turning to snow

	Frogpond IX:2 Ruby Spriggs top of the falls your voice somewhere in its sound

		Frogpond IX:3 John-Bruce Shoemaker The worm far out on this paved lot more rain

Frogpond IX:4 Marlene Mountain autumn dusk the crooked road home

1985

Frogpond VIII:1 Sylvia Forges-Ryan winter morning— the closet dark with old shoes

	Frogpond VIII:2 George Swede The family gathered— a tear of embalming fluid runs from my brother’s eye

		Frogpond VIII:3 Bill Pauly a moth flies through my breath in moonlight

Frogpond VIII:4 Peggy Willis Lyles bitter wind … the hand that cups the flame aglow

1984

Frogpond VII:1 David LeCount The sound of scissors through quilt stuffing: chill autumn moon

	Frogpond VII:1 Charles D. Nethaway, Jr. autumn maple a gust of yellow scatters the child’s laughter

		Frogpond VII:2 Alexis Rotella autumn sky the wind folds and unfolds a flock of sparrows

Frogpond VII:3 Jane Reichhold moving into the sun the pony takes with him some mountain shadow

		Frogpond VII:4 Rod Willmot paddling slowly through the reeds that touch her hair

1983

Frogpond VI:1 Lenard D. Moore the old woman looking into the stars sky all snowy

	Frogpond VI:2 Alexis Kaye Rotella Against his coat I brush my lips— the silence of snowflakes

		Frogpond VI:3 Rod Willmot away from eyes the stairwell holds us in its arms

Frogpond VI:4 Bruce Kennedy that sonofabitch on the corner has a knife— the rain glistens on it

1982

Frogpond V:1 Alexis Rotella still childless: milkweed

	Frogpond V:2 Stephen Gould Winter’s end a bitterness remaining in the dried apricots

		Frogpond V:3 Paul O. Williams the old garden fence now keeps the goldenrod from the goldenrod

Frogpond V:4 George Swede Thin icicles on the telephone wire her distant voice

1981

Frogpond IV:1 Tadashi Kondo hoping the shape of the navel will be good father cuts the cord

	Frogpond IV:2 Elizabeth Searle Lamb one cricket sound and silence lighting the autumn garden

		Frogpond IV:3 Ruth Yarrow hot rock by the stream each of the baby’s toeprints evaporating

Frogpond IV:4 Ruby Spriggs switching off the light switching off the shadows