most vibrant
just before death—
maple leaves

Melanie McLay

leaves blow across the driveway
the key ring
short one key

Aubrie Cox

last year’s winter coat
wondering why
I bought it

Brandy Bockewitz

October breezes
remind me
I should have bought that jacket

Mark Beanblossom

most vibrant
just before death—
maple leaves

last year’s winter coat
wondering why
I bought it

top quarter champion

most vibrant
just before death—
maple leaves

top half champion

most vibrant
just before death—
maple leaves

bottom quarter champion

three years passed
I talk of her
in present tense

looking for
you inside of an
empty bottle

three years passed
I talk of her
in present tense

walking past the marker
that holds him beneath
tears no longer stream

Brandy Bockewitz

looking for
you inside of an
empty bottle

Mark Beanblossom

three bells
firefighter 5
will not be responding

Aubrie Cox

three years passed
I talk of her
in present tense

Debbie Myers

three years passed
I talk of her
in the present tense

I’ve done this. I think it’s an interesting phenomenon that we can sometimes slip into past behaviors unexpectedly. About three years after my mom and dad got married my mom would accidently tell people her maiden name, because she was so used to it. I’ve not seen a haiku capture this before, mostly because it’s not really a happening that most people probably take the time to really think about. Mark

top half champion

most vibrant
just before death—
maple leaves

champion

warm kitchen
fresh baked cookies
stuffy nose

bottom half champion

warm kitchen
fresh baked cookies
stuffy nose

empty stomach
empty cradle
full church

Debbie Myers

wedding band
glints in the sun—
one stone missing

Aubrie Cox

collapsed gazebo—
a single screw
in my hand

Mark Beanblossom

warm kitchen
fresh baked cookies
stuffy nose

Debbie Myers

collapsed gazebo—
a single screw
in my hand

Ha ha! Wouldn't you know it? the smallest thing has caused the largest problem. Maybe the author was putting the gazebo together, but had that one screw left at the end? Or perhaps out of orneryness and the testing of physics, the author removed just that one screw and found out what would happen. The reason the image is so funny to me, is that I'm surprised to learn that the gazebo was so dependent on just one screw. Maybe when I build things then, I overd0 it with the hardware. Or the two images might not even be related! Debbie

empty stomach
empty cradle
full church

warm kitchen
fresh baked cookies
stuffy nose

top quarter champion

warm kitchen
fresh baked cookies
stuffy nose

bottom half champion

warm kitchen
fresh baked cookies
stuffy nose

bottom quarter champion

October winds
my neighbor's paper
for free!

October winds
my neighbor's paper
for free!

up late
waiting for you
to not call

piano recital
noticing a fly,
my finger slips

Melanie McLay

October winds
my neighbor's paper
for free!

Debbie Myers

up late
waiting for you
to not call

Mark Beanblossom

moonlit shadows on the water
the girl slips in
in her white dress

Aubrie Cox

October winds
my neighbor's paper
for free!

The last line makes this haiku--wonderful, playful twist. The first two lines are easy to picture: fall winds tearing through a neighborhood and blowing miscellaneous things down the street, including newspapers. You see your neighbor's newspaper blow into your yard... hey, you forgot to pay for subscription, and it's on your property, right? Very fun. Aubrie

I like the playfulness of this haiku. We’re poor college students, and paper subscriptions can rack up unneeded bills. Maybe the neighbor is not so pleasant, so an opportunity to “lift” his paper “should” be taken advantage of just for spite. Amy

up late
waiting for you
to not call

I like the tension in this one. It really reminds me of parents. My mom expects me to call when I’m in for the night – every night. So, when I don’t call, I end up getting a rather irritated and worried call in the middle of the night. I like the coupling of worry and frustration in this haiku. Michelle