A Birthday Renku

sultry afternoon					[Cara Holman]                             
the plaintive cries
of fledgling hawks

crazed evening traffic				[Yousei Hime]
dragonfly bravura

pigeons huddle					[John Daleiden]
in the park bandstand
a midnight rain

I snag and release				[Margaret Dornaus]
a frog from the house

daytime buzz -					[gillena cox]
the mosquito i slapped
on my arm

letter from Rome—				[Ernesto P. Santiago]
am I liable?

monsoon wind					[Angelo B. Ancheta]
what would complement
this traffic jam

Fog slips over the hilltops			[ina Roy-Faderman]
tickling a lone mockingbird.

wet with dew					[Linda Hofke]
wildflowers fold into themselves
a whispered lullaby

tuning out						[Julie Warther]
yesterday and tomorrow

They flew from their nest			[Lisa Hills]
over summer’s fresh blooms
a lofty call

on my moonlit kitchen			[Christine L. Villa]
drips of watermelon juice

almost midnight					[Asni Amin]
should I stay or should I leave
lullaby of a cricket

alone again					[Christina Nguyen]
in the feathered nest

early birdsong					[Kirsten Cliff]
facing the same direction
all four horses

in the meadow					[Ernesto P. Santiago]
with one last laugh

it’s the new born child				[Johnny Baranski]
who gets the last laugh
severe drought

a dragonfly nestles				[Kathy Uyen Nguyen]
in the clown’s wig

light reflected					[Angela Terry]
off the pond
the sounds clouds make

the right word grasped			[Kathy Uyen Nguyen]
in willow fragments

pillow talk						[Kat Creighton]
the early morning chatter
between nests

on which I scribe each night		[Ernesto P. Santiago]
the non-visual geometry

silence, I speak…				[Ernesto P. Santiago]
the unspoken language
of the unkai

late for work again				[Sanjuktaa Asopa]
the faded-jeans sky

may birthday candles				[John Daleiden]
light the path to happiness…
live a full life

firelight flickers					[Kirsten Cliff]
on the mountainside

bee-wearing (con)tests			[Ernesto P. Santiago]	
the many diverse views
among (our) haijin

morning sunshine				[Cara Holman]
birthday wishes across the web


Asni Amin….. A Walk in My Heart 

Angelo B. Ancheta

Sanjuktaa Asopa….. wild berries 

Johnny Baranski

Kirsten Cliff….. Swimming in Lines of Haiku 

Gillena Cox …..Lunch Break 

Kat Creighton

John Daleiden

Margaret Dornaus….. Haiku-doodle 

Lisa Hills

Yousei Hime….. Shiteki Na Usagi 

Linda Hofke….. Linda’s Life on the Other Side 

Cara Holman….. Prose Posies 

Christina Nguyen…..  A Wish for the Sky…

Kathy Uyen Nguyen….. Origami Lotus Poetry 

Ina Roy-Faderman….. Fluff and Nonsense 

Ernesto P. Santiago…..  Otsenre P. Ogaitnas 

Angela Terry

Christine L. Villa….. Blossom Rain 

Julie Warther

graduation day

The prompt this month for Caribbean Kigo Kukai  #36 was “high school graduation”. The prompt was so evocative, I hardly knew where to begin. So I started with the last high school graduation I attended, several years ago, for a family friend.

The ceremony was held at a college campus, so that there would be more seating. There was dressing for the event. The long ride over. The disastrous parking situation. The long walk across campus to the auditorium. The uncomfortable seats. And the hot, stuffy room.  There were many long speeches. A choral number. Students fidgeted in their heavy gowns, under the hot lights. And finally, they began calling the students up one by one, to receive their diploma covers. There were over 500 graduates that year. We were asked not to clap between students, but of course, who listened? Each student, it seemed, came with their own private cheering section. Cameras flashed, younger siblings fidgeted, and officials propped the outside doors open, in a futile attempt to create a cross draft. Row by row, student by student, the evening dragged on…

This was my haiku, that won 1st place:

graduation day
I fold my program
into a fan

lazy afternoon

Daily Haiku, Cycle 13, Week 3, Haiku 3:

lazy afternoon

I wrote this haiku back before the red-tailed hawks in our area started nesting. Yesterday, I was regaled all afternoon by the cries of the hungry fledgling hawks in our neighbor’s tree. I saw an adult hawk take down a robin in our backyard last week, and while I understand that this is part of nature, I keep my toy poodle grandpuppy close by my side when I am out in the yard. I can’t believe the size of the adult hawks, when I see them up close. Haven’t spotted the babies yet, but I sure do hear them.

Birthday renku

For a while now, I’ve been pondering how to celebrate my birthday, writing-wise. And here’s what I’ve come up with. From now until my birthday (July 23), please join me in creating an online renku. I’ve done this twice in the past, and it was so much fun! You can read the previous posts here and here.

For this renku, the rules are simple. I will start it off, and then in the comments section, add a couplet, if the last verse was haiku, or a haiku if the last verse was a couplet. What to write about? Anything in July, in your part of the world. Flora, fauna, senryu, stars, sunshine, cold (if you’re in the Southern hemisphere), dishes, soapsuds, food, trucks, trains, boats, and planes, clouds, puddles, pruners, cell phones, kids, birthdays, books, music, stones, swimming pools, the beach, tidepools… It’s all good!

Please leave your name, as you’d like it to appear, and also your blog/website link if you have one. On my birthday, I will put together a post with everything I’ve received to date, and that will be my present to myself! So have at it. And have fun. 🙂

Opening verse:

sultry afternoon
the plaintive cries
of fledgling hawks

moonlit orchard

Daily Haiku, Cycle 13, Week 3, Haiku 2:

moonlit orchard

Of all the critters that found their way into my parents’ orchard, none were as damaging to it as the deer. A 6-ft fence was nothing to them. And besides eating the fruit, they ate the tender young shoots, and sometimes stripped bark from the trees. For every prevention measure Dad implemented, the deer found a way around it. It was a constant battle of wits. Yet as a nature lover, I couldn’t help but be in awe of the roving herd of deer that inhabited the local area, especially when I happened upon one or more of them unexpectedly, and they froze stock still and stared at me with their large eyes, until eventually they gracefully loped back over the fence and into the woods, to return another time.