Latest Haiku

Previous haiku

Anthony Lusardi

  

 

on a dead deer

the highway asphalt. reeks of exhaust and burnt rubber. the cars and trucks go by. the sun boiling and you rotting. an eye fixed on a sea of green beeches. only one of your antlers unbroken. pointing up to the mountains.

does your herd still graze on daffodil meadows? does your doe stand alone. waiting for your grunt call? does your fawn know that it must face the wolves and game hunters alone?

eventually. the vultures will pick off what’s left. eventually. the roadkill wagon will carry you off. or eventually . . . you’ll be light enough for the rain to wash away.

yet now. your fawn dares itself to cross the river. its head and antler stubs. just above the rapids.

                        highway traffic
above the tree line
the mountain view

 

 

Anthony Lusardi lives in Rockaway, NJ. His poetry has appeared in Modern Haiku, The Cicada’s Cry, Acorn, hedgerow, bottle rockets, Wales Haiku Journal. He has four haiku chapbooks published. Copies can be purchased by emailing him at lusardi133@gmail.com.

Kashiana Singh

5 Haiku Origami cradle songs on the drive home… my empty womb * my mother’s knitted sweaters- I unravel knots * tears- water raining into an empty cup * drifting snowflakes- I restore the fragile lace of my wedding veil * encounters- his world is shaped by her...

Xan Nichols

Haiku in the hope of an easing of lockdown   Sunrise early May all flame and pale duck egg blue; Clouds of lilac grey Just before sunrise - a muted bloom of russet On the chilly ground Above the skyline blazing - the risen sun like a young god Tree trunks east facing...

Yvonne Amey

      * you gone I dream I’m chasing darkness through our castle * souvenir scarf in ocean-green I wrap Australia around my neck * alone on a foreign shore silver gulls dine with me     Yvonne Amey received her MFA from the University of...