Mother’s Day
a bit of shell
in the chowder
& Modern Haiku 35:3
mother-daughter
small talk
snap beans
for her mother
bluets
root and all
Mother’s Day
that first breath of air
outside the door
Mother Day alone
arranging roses
with no scent
after her death
composing roses
instead of words
from the sequence where the lily was (2003)
Mom’s sunburnt back . . .
first the youngest touches it,
the the eldest
that spanking she gave
to the wrong twin —
all the other days
- special thanks, always, with love to Mama G. 
- for a special treat, click for Joann Klontz’s award-winning haiku
- for more see: the f/k/a Mother’s Day haiku collection -
Mother’s Day
a bit of shell
in the chowder
mother-daughter
small talk
snap beans
for her mother 
bluets
root and all
Mother’s Day
that first breath of air
outside the door
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, by John Stevenson from Quiet Enough
after her death
composing roses
instead of words
from the sequence where the lily was (2003)
Mom’s sunburnt back . . .
first the youngest touches it,
the the eldest
that spanking she gave
to the wrong twin —
all the other days
- special thanks, always, with love to Mama G.
I smile at her
smiling at the baby
smiling
sleepless . . .
the baby’s age
in days
children’s ICU–
a tissue box beside
the pay phone
not dead roses
she corrects me
. . . dried
(Red Moon Press,1999)
driving home for
Mother’s Day – her smile
and her bursitis
[May 7, 2005]
“#1mom” potluck
No Punditry Today: Finally got my priorities straight – I’m heading to
Rochester, NY, to see Mama G. (catch her here in 1950 with Your Editor
and that other kid who also wanted her attention).
I smile at her
smiling at the baby
smiling
sleepless . . .
the baby’s age
in days
children’s ICU–
a tissue box beside
the pay phone
not dead roses
she corrects me
. . . dried
(Red Moon Press,1999)
driving home for
Mother’s Day – her smile
and her bursitis
[May 7, 2005]
“#1mom” potluck
No Punditry Today: Finally got my priorities straight – I’m heading to
Rochester, NY, to see Mama G. (catch her here in 1950 with Your Editor
and that other kid who also wanted her attention).
“I’ve written a poem.”
“Who sir? You sir?”
“Yes sir, me sir.”
“No, sir!”
“Yes sir. Listen.”
The Scarlet Googernel,
by Sir Adwords Sinkme 
They search him here, they search him there,
Those Frenchies search him everywhere.
Is he confusing or is he just swell?
That omnipresent Googernel
“I’ve written a poem.”
“Who sir? You sir?”
“Yes sir, me sir.”
“No, sir!”
“Yes sir. Listen.”
The Scarlet Googernel,
by Sir Adwords Sinkme
They search him here, they search him there,
Those Frenchies search him everywhere.
Is he confusing or is he just swell?
That omnipresent Googernel
Inspired by our 