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III.  Original Haiku by our Subscribers
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<1>    my childhood home-
       it seems so
       small now


                             <15>    From over the hill
                                       at sunset, the voices of
                                         children at play


<1>    a new storm-
       the moon was
       racing the clouds for a second


                             <2>   The moon shines on
                                   The pond and
                                   The scales of minnows
                                   In the dark water.


<17>  tendrils
      racing frost
      up the post



                           <9>  in Massachusetts
                                waiting for first snow to fall --
                                fly on my window!



<17>    not enough geese
         in this late flight to make
          a proper vee.


                           <16>    one, two, three, four, five
                                   horses huddle against barn
                                   cold wind-blown snow falls



<4>  In arching stillness
     Skates hiss on pristine ice
     Burning eyes and nose



                           <8>   snow falls across red
                                 gradebook full of numbers
                                 - yet its cover's green.



<17>  watching blackbirds feed:
      yellow seed-pile on the snow . . .
      peppering my egg.


                           <9>  waking from a dream
                                of first snow on the cedars --
                                white hairs on my chest!


<14>  All the drag queens died
      glitter turns to ash and tears
      empty cocktail dress


                           <14>  How to die so young
                                 when dying is so prolonged
                                 tennis shoes still new



<4>  Wrong number, he said
     And stared at his dinner plate
     The look in her eyes



                           <7> Pouring green tea
                                 Speak to wife in heaven
                                   Hi tea time my love.


<3>  I touched the sea, but
     pebbles and sand and sea weeds
     had her attention.


                           <1>    some short cut!
                                  up to my ankles
                                  in sticky mud



<10>  Sunday afternoon.
      The father and the daughter
      knead the shortbread dough.



                           <17>   double amputee
                                  out on Wabash Avenue
                                  jaywheeling  . . .


<17>    morning rush, yet
         the nosegay in the sidewalk grate
          is undisturbed.



                           <5>  Green and yellow trees
                                Zig-zag bridges, zig-zag fish
                                Gardens bring us joy


<12>  The mockingbird --
      Not yet copying
      The children's cries



                           <6>  Thrush, sitting in trees,
                                Outside a little hamlet,
                                Singing in chorus.



<8>  thistles that I pick
     hurt the hand less sharply than
     those thrust upon me.


                           <13> Midday, two cats doze.
                                The phone stays quiet too.  Are
                                All my friends asleep?


<11> not knowing
    where to start--
    cheap toilet paper


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<1>   SteveYo@aol.com
<2>   GaryFrsh@aol.com
<3>   Fred Popp (popp@xs4all.nl)
<4>   Fischer1@netcom.com
<5>   Molly Fischer and Classmates, 8-year old daughter of <4>
<6>   bhoffman@cosi.stockton.edu
<7>   Katsumi Nakamura (NCD00657@niftyserve.or.jp)
<8>   HINCKLEY@MAINE
<9>   JLANDRY@UMASSD.BITNET
<10>  JTankard@aol.com
<11>  Zane Parks (70372.3255@compuserve.com)
      (originally in Canadian Writer's Journal 11:4 (1994)).
<12>  Tom Frenkel (frenkel@cucis.cis.columbia.edu)
<13>  Helleg@aol.com
<14>  John Guglielmelli  (PARTYICE@AOL.COM)
<15>  LDARGIN@aol.com
<16>  Bill Blohm (bblohm@hpbs1686.boi.hp.com)
<17>  TrumbullC@aol.com

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