Shifting Light by Hannah Mahoney

I always enjoy haiku by Hannah Mahoney, so it is a delight to see her collection SHIFTING LIGHT from Backbone Press.

I particularly am drawn to moments of self-reflection, and of sudden awareness:

what it means
to have a body
midnight snow

Children are a traditional enough topic in haiku. As more mothers write haiku, the contemporary work is even richer in this intimacy.

folding her clothes
remembering folding
her first clothes

And although we expect nature keenly observed, some of these haiku are refreshingly surprising:

receding wave
a scallop opens
its many blue eyes

With the speed of monoku, everything changes in an instant:

a swallow’s flight a leaf’s

The indigo chapbook with fluttering leaves is a pleasure to hold, but better to open. To order, go to

Monoku from brass bell

breaking my fall a haiku moment
    Brad Bennett

no moon tonight i walk alone
    Devoshruti Mandal

mother’s grave the red roses she never liked
    Jackie Chou

a pile of stones     black teacups mended with gold epoxy
    Miriam Sagan

teacher’s funeral between loved ones the worst student
    Wieslaw Karlinski

Doughnut Haibun

Doughnut Haibun

it’s Bicycle month, and Bike To Work Day, and there are free snacks out on the Rail Trail. You work remotely, and don’t bike, but you like a festivity. Maybe you’ll score a second breakfast. But when you come home you are carrying a large shallow cardboard box that broadcasts its contents: doughnuts. A lot of doughnuts. Crullers, glazed, sugared, and doughnut holes. You’ve been giving them away on your return trip along the Acequia Trail. They were leftovers, and the organizers were glad to pass them on. You’re feeding the homeless guys chatting on the bench and the lady who sometimes lives in the tunnel, the by-pass under St. Francis. And there are plenty left over for me.

you say
the roses are blooming
all over town

These nice-looking doughnuts from a road trip a few years agi.

Forest Fire Haiku by Stella Reed

Wildfire Haiku
~Stella Reed

through a haze of smoke
red sun
casts blue shadows

What to take. What to leave.
On the map villages
glow red yellow green.

stalwart pines on fire
on blackbird’s wing

planes drop pink slurry
of falling prayers

Amidst smoke and ash
baby goats arrive!
Small sparks of joy.

Winds shift. Fires grow.
Womens’ rights also
in flames?