Frogpond 34.3 • Autumn 2011 (pdf) - Haiku Society of America

Question and Answer
by Cara Holman, Portland, Oregon
“He’s not interested in food anymore,” I say. “What can I do?”
Slowly, the social worker raises his hand, and uncurls his fi ngers,
palm side up.
green peaches
he says we’ll know
when it’s time
Grand Moons
by Renée Owen, Sebastopol, California
All week the new baby. Another link in our chain. Watching
her eat, sleep, cry. A few moments of play, a smile, tiny
fi ngernails, the soft toes. Then eat, sleep, cry. Oh the order, in
those fi rst few months, as she opens to life. And I—for her, I
try not to close.
this bent cypress
beneath a half moon
what day, what year
On Autopilot
by Michele L. Harvey, Brooklyn, New York
My thoughts race by at high speed fast enough to crowd each
other but slow enough to pile on. Did the woman smelling of
beer, who appeared out of the pitch black in front of my car
with her arms waving at 2:30 in the morning just scream, “my
car’s on fi re in the river with my baby in it”?
hornets’ nest—
the black and yellow jackets
of fi refi ghters
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