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# / Author
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CLI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Watching as she takes
her lingerie off the clothes line —
a bluebird's song.
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CLII
Dana-Maria Onica
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The strange delight
of her scented letters —
it snows again
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CLIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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She closes her eyes
to inhale the rose's fragrance —
lips parting...
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CLIV
Hugh Bygott
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Was it in a dream
that she came to me in her naked beauty?
Spring dawn awakening —
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CLV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Day-dreaming of you —
the sun and the moon
in a cloudless sky.
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CLVI
Michele Harvey
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winter darkness
his fingertips
all eyes
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CLVII
Zhanna P. Rader
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The magic touch
of your fingertips —
moonlit fountains...
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CLVIII
Dana-Maria Onica
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Under his caresses
even the thorns become flowers —
when it comes time...
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CLIX
Zhanna P. Rader
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She accepts his rose...
and bleeds as the thorn
pricks her finger.
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CLX
Robert D. Wilson
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the dampness
of winter dreams...
oh moon!
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CLXI
Zhanna P. Rader
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The peach
in your warm hands ripens —
sweet juice on your lips.
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CLXII
Robert D. Wilson
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your smile
stretched across
a tree limb
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CLXIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Valentine's Day —
a pigeon, running close
behind another one...
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CLXIV
Dana-Maria Onica
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Wildflowers in bloom —
I don't know him at all,
and yet I know...
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CLXV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Your glances
and the chemistry between us —
blossoming cherries.
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CLXVI
Billie Dee
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slipper moon
her kimono hem shushing
the breeze
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CLXVII
Michele Harvey
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all melted
from a glance
this winter's heart
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CLXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Pine candles —
she suggests
a candlelight dinner.
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CLXIX
Dana-Maria Onica
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Sweet wine —
she takes off her sweater,
smiling
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CLXX
Billie Dee
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picnic
opening the perfect peach
sunlight on your thighs
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CLXXI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Sunny beach —
as we laugh, her navel
plays peek-a-boo.
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CLXXII
Michele Harvey
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whispers
shared
winter stars
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CLXXIII
Dana-Maria Onica
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Ebb and flow
in his eyes —
spring twilight
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CLXXIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Jasmine gazebo —
she lets me see
her thigh tattoo.
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CLXXV
Dana-Maria Onica
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Nothing left
but a trace of Magie Noir —
first coffee
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CLXXVI
Robert D. Wilson
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she bows to the
broken needle
. . . remembering
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Winter kigo: broken needle. (Harikuyou) Memorial service of needles… Harikuyou is a festival in Japan where people bring their old sewing needles, etc to retire them and thank them.
A woman pays homage to the broken sewing needle she has used and now must retire. My haiku is a metaphor for a woman looking longingly at her dying husband, remembering the good times they shared. Robert D. Wilson
Seems rather clear and obvious to me, and the explanation of the holy day in the Japanese calendar makes it even clearer. Belaboring the events around the needle's becoming broken, and belaboring the memories, would destroy the poignancy of the bow, which makes the inner spiritual significance of the memories clear. A needle is an attempt to repair or create, and that is broken. Remembering is either happy or sad, but remembering with a bow means it is significant, and the broken needle means there was a struggle, and effort, not something "pointless." Bowing is an effort at recognition and also deep acceptance of truth and faith in truth. This is a very focused set of verse with deep reverberations, and that is with out my knowing the specific Japanese context, given the context in the religious spiritual calendar, the meaning becomes clear and details are supplied by one's own memories of memories I think... Isa Kocher |
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CLXXVII
Hugh Bygott
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Lips pressed; desire:
we seek the rhythm of the waves
. . . moonflowers at dusk.
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CLXXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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As we tango,
my heartbeat — a woodpecker's
drumming.
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CLXXIX
Dana-Maria Onica
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The blue
of his eyes —
winter sky
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CLXXX
Michele Harvey
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all rosy
winter crescent rising
and a moon
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CLXXXI
Hugh Bygott
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Wild violets —
tutor'd by Aphrodite
. . . his lips free her desire...
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CLXXXII
Zhanna P. Rader
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You discover me:
I become softer, weaker...
a twining sweet pea...
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CLXXXIII
Billie Dee
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standing in the snow —
Rachmaninov spills
from her window
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CLXXIV
Michele Harvey
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encircled
by a curving embrace
and a new moon
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CLXXXV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Trampled grass —
guarded by a caterpillar,
her lost pearl earring...
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CLXXXVI
Hugh Bygott
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Lily in the moonlight —
How delicate is her love;
yet so easily lost.
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CLXXXVII
Zhanna P. Rader
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By the creek, she rolls
her stockings down and off —
a long-legged egret...
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CLXXXVIII
Michele Harvey
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lost in giggles
two rocks beneath
the springing stream
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CLXXXIX
Zhanna P. Rader
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Lilacs in bloom —
on her tight blouse,
two buds.
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CXC
Michele Harvey
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winter warmed
without a fire
sparks flying
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CXCI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Teach me,
passion flower,
all you know.
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CXCII
Vaughn Seward
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winter wedding...
she steps out of the limo
in high heels
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CXCIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Newlyweds' garden —
this time, he leaves his love note
in the jasmines.
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CXCIV
Hugh Bygott
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Darkly in thought,
I remember that embrace ...
Winter which scours and heals.
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CXCV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Willow limbs
caressing the brook's surface —
my skin aches for your touch.
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CXCVI
Hugh Bygott
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Plum blossoms opening —
I kiss her smooth bare legs
... New desires unfolding ...
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CXCVII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Drought-stricken willow —
your tender kisses
moisten my lips.
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CXCVIII
Billie Dee
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nippy afternoon
still she swings
her feathered fan
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CXCIX
Zhanna P. Rader
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I offer new pants
to the scarecrow man —
the sparkle in his eyes!
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CC
Hugh Bygott
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A chance on a Spring day —
our eyes meet as we pass ...
this persisting desire.
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