Doug Anderson: Anonymous from the Han Dynasty
What a relief to sit by the waterfall
and let my mind go like this, each thought
a bubble rising from the bottom of a pond
Donald Krieger: Hiroshima Haiku
memorial bridge
ahead and in my rearview
winged souls drift by
Sam Hamill — To the Tune: Sands of the Washing Stream
The pear blossoms fade and die,
and I can’t keep them from falling.
Peter Schireson: Woof
I take Buster out for his walk, above us, wild geese fly south, honking, going nowhere, geese without edges, no longer geese. Where did they go? asked Baso. “Away,” Hyakujo … Continue reading
Sam Hamill: When Eagles Fly
I don’t know how we do it, how we struggle to find happiness in this brutal world. I sat a long time watching a few sailboats meander around Fidalgo … Continue reading
Juniper White: Pulse Oximetry
For Sam . Propped on pillows, eyes closed, cannula askew, the machine indifferently draws and whirs oxygen puffs, and you breathe as you can. I settle down beside, … Continue reading
Sam Hamill: In the Company of Ancient Masters
It is autumn in the autumn of my life. I sit on my deck in the evening light and watch a slow boat pass by. Tonight, a woman I … Continue reading
Sam Hamill: Odysseus in Paris, 6 a.m.
I’m leaning out the window, looking up Rue Pascal, up the hill toward Mouffetard, where soon the markets will overflow with fresh produce and fish, and dozens of restaurants will … Continue reading
Sam Hamill: Three Poems
Septuagenarian Sitting alone in late summer twilight sipping cold sake reading the obituaries of my friends . To Margaret, the Librarian It was a librarian who first showed me how … Continue reading