Category: haiku community
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spruce tree branches
Originally posted on Poems From Oostburg, Wisconsin: Snow falls this winter March day, and the trees are beautiful through the seasons. spruce tree branchesby the windowseach day a painting poem credit: WestWard Quarterly, Winter 2021 – Shirley Anne Leonard is the Editor, and Dr. Richard Leonard is the Publisher.
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Today’s Haiku (March 13, 2023)
Originally posted on Blue Willow Haiku World (by Fay Aoyagi): 草の芽やここに交はる緯度経度 岸本葉子 kusa no me ya koko ni majiwaru ido keido ??????????? grass buds— ??????????? a latitude and a longitude ??????????? cross here ??????????????????????????????????????????????? Yoko Kishimoto from Haiku, a monthly haiku magazine, June 2022 Issue, Kabushiki Kaisha Kadokawa, Tokyo
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My Daily #Haiku (3/13/23)
3/13/23: napping such a dream… Sunday afternoon napping #haiku #micropoetry #poetry
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Hopewell Valley Neighbors magazine: March ’23
Originally posted on Bill Waters ~~ Haiku: The text (which is rather small): this goldfinch perched on the edge of spring shrub bed — scratching out a living the sparrow some nodding yes some nodding no: daffodils Bill Waters lives n Pennington and is a published writer of short poetry and compressed prose. In addition,…
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World Haiku Series 2022 (24) Haiku by Debbie Strange (Canada)
Originally posted on Akita International Haiku Network: Haiku, Tanka, and Haiga by Debbie Strange? 1) sakura we learn the lesson of resilience Honourable Mention, Sakura Award (Canada) 2022 Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Invitational 2) herring shoals the ocean turns itself inside out 2nd Place, Shintai Haiku World Haiku Review, Winter 2021-2022 3) prairie blizzard…
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Haiga, Haiku and Stories In Longer Light – 3-13-2023
Originally posted on A 19 Planets Art Blog 2010/2024: * geese flying northin the late afternoon i watchthe moonrise ** ** sudden clatterof bamboo wind chimesspring storm *
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#SilentSunday (3/12/23)
A rest from #haiku See you tomorrow!
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Momentary Mindfulness
The tenital hum in my ears, and the electric drone behind the walls. The ignited engine of a postal truck, and the first notes of a sparrow’s song. And the rain-soaked ground where they predicted snow would fall. The warmth in my gut, and the flow of vibration down my spine. The cooling along my…
