Deborah Bogen: Bashō
Sweet friend, hear me. There will always be trouble.
Peter Makuck: Two Poems
Mockingbirds converse
With a catchy song outside
My study window
Elizabeth Jacobson: Dear Basho,
Basho, what is the world if it is not this uneasy faith
puddling and drying as we thrust ourselves toward the sky?
Andrena Zawinski: Singing Bird Haibun
“Sitting quietly, doing nothing, spring comes, and the grass grows by itself.” Basho . It is not a steely-eyed egret nor heft of pelican but just a singing bird that … Continue reading
Stephen Dobyns: Ducks
For David Fenza Warm in my truck by the lighthouse at Watch Hill on a sunny morning in mid-winter, I observe the ducks bobbing among ice-covered rocks and think of … Continue reading
Sam Hamill: Old Bones
I. All the quiet afternoon splitting wood, thinking about books, I remembered Snyder making a handle for an ax as he remembered Ezra Pound thirty years before, thinking about Lu … Continue reading
