- nonstop . . .
- leaning on his cane . . .
- southbound . . .
- old friends . . .
- tanka time . . .
- stars, planet, moons, et. al. . . .
- exquisite corpse update . . .
- exquisite corpse, anyone? . . .
- virtual friends . . .
- perhaps . . .
- cobwebs . . .
- After the Funeral . . .
- anthology fever . . .
- Throwback . . .
- new moon rising . . .
Tag Archives: A Hundred Gourds
southbound the irresistible urge to follow A Hundred Gourds 4:1, December 2014
cobwebs never easy letting go A Hundred Gourds 3:4, September 2014
he informs me I’ve been working for years on this garden– as if there were limits to love buried deep beneath the ground A Hundred Gourds 3:1, December 2013
This week I, along with other members of the haiku community, learned of the sudden, unexpected death of Kat Creighton. Kat was a photographer as well as a poet, combining words and images to create the poetic form known as … Continue reading
In tribute to the first new moon of the New Year, and all the loved ones we also may briefly have lost sight of: . . . Camera-in-hand, I stand, watching, waiting, thinking I might capture some long-lost image; that through some magic transformation of … Continue reading
waxing gibbous– the visiting cat comes out of hiding A Hundred Gourds 3:1, December 2013
From across the pond come three haiku by Irish poet Marion Clarke, writing about her father who died three years ago; her sister who died shortly after her 17th birthday; and a colorful “gran.” Thank you, Marion, for sharing these … Continue reading
Ever since I started this blog three years ago, I’ve asked contributors to send me poems to honor their lost loved ones as part of a single All Souls Day/Day of the Dead post. This year, however, I’m planning something slightly different. During … Continue reading
stardust the truth about me and you A Hundred Gourds 2.4, September 2013