Haiku #20: old loves

Ever get the ick thinking about old romances, friendships, even coworkers? May is my wedding anniversary month, and Jonathan and I are coming up on ten years together. Every day I'm grateful for him and for all the good people in my life today. Washing away what no longer serves you is a good feeling:

old loves…
barnacles encrust
a collapsing pier

"old loves," copyright 2024 Amelia Cotter (first published in Frogpond 43.3, 2020)

Haiku #19: apparitions

The title haiku from apparitions was originally published on Soka City's website as part of their annual Soka Matsubara (Big Bonsai Road) International Haiku Competition. In honor of February being National Haiku Writing Month, or NaHaiWriMo, here it is again:

apparitions
before me
endless, sky of stars

"apparitions," copyright 2024 Amelia Cotter (Honorable Mention, Soka Matsubara International Haiku Competition, 2020)

Haiku #18: blue planet

Feeling blue? Welcome yourself to the new year with a reminder to dream big and dream beyond. Hope is an action:

blue planet
the depth
of our dream to fly

"blue planet," copyright 2024 Amelia Cotter (most recently published in Fractured by Cattails: The Haiku Society of America 2023 Members’ Anthology, 2023)

Haiku #16 and #17: "her empty chair" and "a wolf tree's"

Fall Poetry Series: Happy Halloween! Part of the apparitions project involved sharing poetry and photography from other talented writers and artists, in celebration of the book's publication and this incredible year of poetry. I promised another short poetry series this fall, which has encompassed the poems I've shared in my non-poetry books, including This House: The True Story of a Girl and a Ghost, Maryland Ghosts: Paranormal Encounters in the Free State, and Where the Party Never Ended: Ghosts of the Old Baraboo Inn. Alas, Breakfast with Bigfoot lacks a dedicated poem, but makes up for it in poop jokes. This week, we'll close with the haiku featured at the beginning of Maryland Ghosts and Where the Party Never Ended, titled "her empty chair" and "a wolf tree's," respectively:

her empty chair…
still telling
old ghost stories

--

a wolf tree’s

twisting branches—

             choosing joy

"her empty chair" and "a wolf tree's," copyright 2022 Amelia Cotter ("her empty chair" first published in Maryland Ghosts: Paranormal Encounters in the Free State and "a wolf tree's first published in Where the Party Never Ended: Ghosts of the Old Baraboo Inn)

Guest Post: knowing eyes, by Ann Lamas

Note from Amelia: An early part of the apparitions project involved collecting the poetry and photography of other talented writers and artists to share as part of a greater anthology. This component of the project didn't quite come together for many reasons, but I wanted to share the finest work Jonathan and I received as part of our celebration of the book's publication and this incredible year of poetry. I'm sharing this spring and summer series alphabetically by last name. Today's poem, "knowing eyes," was written for me by my dear friend and fellow haiku poet, Ann Lamas:

knowing eyes
when daisies and oncologists
were mentioned

"knowing eyes," copyright 2022 Ann Lamas

Guest Post: Selected Poems, by Tim Gardiner

Note from Amelia: An early part of the apparitions project involved collecting the poetry and photography of other talented writers and artists to share as part of a greater anthology. This component of the project didn't quite come together for many reasons, but I wanted to share the finest work Jonathan and I received as part of our celebration of the book's publication and this incredible year of poetry. I'm sharing this spring and summer series alphabetically by last name. Today's beautiful poems, "a tsunami" (tanka), "Hangman's Hill" (haibun), and "wind chimes" (haiku), come to us from longtime friend and fellow poet Tim Gardiner:

a tsunami
warning sign
on the shore...
            what happens to those
            who cannot run away

--

Hangman’s Hill

I drop the handbrake and wait. Slowly my car begins to roll uphill towards the hanging tree. So the legend is true; the hangman’s ghost is dragging me to eternity. I glance at the rope on the rear seat, moonlight glinting off its grain, throwing out a surfeit of shadows. Reaching the hanging tree, bent double and alone on the hillside, I pull on the brake. On closer inspection, the distant lights of city skyscrapers don’t seem to touch the bark of this isolated hawthorn. My last thought is of a small boy, cocooned in childhood, playing cricket on the beach until the evening comes.

just an illusion
the hill’s dark secret

--

wind chimes...

someone else’s tragedy

hangs from a yew

Dr. Tim Gardiner is an ecologist, editor, essayist, poet, and children’s author from Manningtree in Essex, UK. He has been widely published in journals and anthologies. He is a former co-editor of the tanka prose section of  Haibun Today and now edits a poetry column for the punk fanzine  Suspect Device.

"a tsunami," "Hangman's Hill," and "wind chimes," copyright 2022 Tim Gardiner

Guest Post: walking, by Charlotte Digregorio

Note from Amelia: Today is International Haiku Poetry Day! An early part of the apparitions project involved collecting the poetry and photography of other talented writers and artists to share as part of a greater anthology. This component of the project didn't quite come together for many reasons, but I wanted to share the finest work Jonathan and I received as part of our celebration of the book's publication and this incredible year of poetry. I'm sharing this spring and summer series alphabetically by last name. Today is a fitting day to share "walking," by Charlotte Digregorio, my haiku mentor and one of the book's editors:

walking
through darkness...
trillium

Charlotte Digregorio has authored seven award-winning books, including her latest: Ripples of Air: Poems of Healing, an inspirational reference book. She was honored in 2018 by the Illinois Governor for her decades of literary achievements. Digregorio is Editor of "The Daily Haiku," with other poetic forms, short stories, and essays by writers from sixty-one countries at www.charlottedigregorio.wordpress.com.

"walking," copyright 2022 Charlotte Digregorio (previously published in Haiku and Senryu: A Simple Guide for All, 2014)

Haiku #15: whispers of autumn

A fitting poem for chillier days, longer nights, and dramatically beautiful sunrises:

whispers of autumn…
seedheads shake away
early morning frost

"whispers of autumn," copyright 2021 Amelia Cotter (first published in Visiting the Wind: Haiku Society of America Members' Anthology 2021, 2021)

Haiku #14: wishes

In collaboration with the Haiku Society of America, the Chicago Botanic Garden put out a call for submissions in mid-2019 for its Words in Bloom: A Year of Haiku at Chicago Botanic Garden exhibition. Out of around 1,400 submissions, 32 haiku were selected for placement throughout 2020 in the English Walled Garden, Japanese Garden, Native Plant Garden, and Prairie areas. Due to the coronavirus pandemic, sign placements were delayed and staggered, but the entire exhibition will be on display for at least the remainder of 2021. I was honored to have my poem "wishes" selected for the Native Plant Garden, and am so excited to finally be able to share it with you now:

Chicago Botanic Garden in Glencoe, Illinois.
Photos by Tia Haynes.

"wishes," copyright 2021 Amelia Cotter

Haiku #13: Milky Way

A new year, a new beginning, and a sentimental little meditation to welcome both:

Milky Way…
what it means
to mean the world

"Milky Way," copyright 2021 Amelia Cotter (first published in Full of Moonlight: Haiku Society of America 2016 Members' Anthology, 2016)

Haiku #12: stuck

This haiku seems fitting for the year at hand, impending winter, and seemingly endless hours spent waiting on those election results...phew! Take a moment to reflect on the victories you've achieved (great and small) and recognize that hope and potential lie ahead. The hard work really begins now, and we must all do our part:

stuck

in my own head

yellowed fly paper

"stuck," copyright 2020 Amelia Cotter (first published in Bundled Wildflowers: Haiku Society of America 2020 Members’ Anthology, 2020)

Haiku #11: dead of winter

A haiku for that midwinter feeling (and if you've ever lived through a Midwest winter, you will truly feel this haiku):

dead of winter

            wishing it was warm enough
            to snow

"dead of winter," copyright 2020 Amelia Cotter (first published in A Moment’s Longing: Haiku Society of America Members' Anthology 2019, 2019)

Haiku #10: we hold hands

My grandfather passed away over the weekend. He was my last living grandparent. This haiku was inspired by my grandmother’s passing in 2014, shortly after their 60th wedding anniversary. I believe they are reunited at last:

we hold hands…
the coolness
of late summer grass

"we hold hands," copyright 2019 Amelia Cotter (first published in The Sacred in Contemporary Haiku, 2014)

Haiku #9: view from the canyon rim

February is National Haiku Writing Month, or NaHaiWriMo, so in honor of that and the exploration of beautiful new horizons:

view from the canyon rim…

we frame eternity with our hands

"view from the canyon rim," copyright 2019 Amelia Cotter (first published in Lifting the Sky: Southwestern Haiku and Haiga, 2013)

Haiku #8: her first

In memory of the ones we’ve lost, great and small, recently or long ago:

her first
shoebox funeral
midsummer sun

"her first," copyright 2018 Amelia Cotter (first published in Now This: Contemporary Poems of Beginnings, Renewals, and Firsts, 2013)

Haiku #7: jazz guitar

Today is my wedding anniversary! And this month, for the second year in a row, a photo haiku that I worked on together with my husband, Jonathan Montgomery Pollock, was selected for recognition on the show Haiku Masters on NHK World-Japan! This time, I was named Runner-Up for Haiku Master of the Month! Jonathan both inspired the haiku below and took the moving photo that comprise our winning submission, which is viewable at the website's Gallery now with accompanying video and judges' commentary. As with last year, I didn't tell Jonathan I was submitting our work so that I would (hopefully) be able to surprise him with a special Happy Anniversary gift. Here's to another year of challenges, joys, and successes behind us, and a new year of hopes and dreams ahead:

jazz guitar
in his hands
veins of deepest blue

Chinatown in Chicago, Illinois.
Photo by Jonathan Montgomery Pollock.

"jazz guitar," copyright 2018 Amelia Cotter

Haiku #6: April showers

April is National Poetry Month and today is International Haiku Poetry Day!:

April showers
our rain boots
covered in snow

"April showers," copyright 2018 Amelia Cotter (first published in A Splash of Water: Haiku Society of America Members' Anthology 2015, 2015)

Haiku #5: her empty chair

A brief meditation for the dead of winter:

her empty chair…

still telling

old ghost stories

"her empty chair," copyright 2018 Amelia Cotter (most recently published in Beyond the Grave: Contemporary Afterlife Haiku, 2015)

Haiku #4: itch

In continuation of a month of surprises, I was named Haiku Master of the Week by Haiku Masters on NHK World-Japan! My husband, Jonathan Montgomery Pollock, took the photo below inside the Rosehill Cemetery Mausoleum in Chicago, Illinois. This photo, along with the haiku below (edited for the show to fit three lines), comprised last week's winning submission and are viewable at the website's Gallery with accompanying video and judges' commentary. See my post from May 8 for more details about this and our other photo haiku featured this month on the show:

itch
of old wounds
I pick myself
apart

Rosehill Cemetery Mausoleum in Chicago, Illinois.

Photo by Jonathan Montgomery Pollock.

"itch," copyright 2017 Amelia Cotter (first published with Jonathan's photo in East on Central Volume 14: 2015-2016, 2015)

Haiku #3: confluence

Today is my one-year wedding anniversary! The photo below was taken by my husband, Jonathan Montgomery Pollock, at Starved Rock State Park in Utica, Illinois, where we got married. We used this photo, along with the haiku below, as our wedding favor postcard. Now, this photo haiku, along with another of our collaborative photo haiku, will be featured this month on the show Haiku Masters on NHK World-Japan (and are viewable at the website's Gallery now, with the edit "his hand in mine"). I didn't tell Jonathan I was submitting these, and of course wasn't sure if or when they'd be accepted. I was going to post this photo haiku today anyway, and then found out early last week that they were indeed accepted. Perfect timing! So...surprise, Jonathan! Happy Anniversary!:

confluence

of winding rivers...

your hand in mine

Starved Rock State Park in Utica, Illinois.

Photo by Jonathan Montgomery Pollock.

"confluence," copyright 2017 Amelia Cotter