Haiku by Dan Hardison
The image is from my first handmade Christmas card, 1997.
The image is from my first handmade Christmas card, 1997.
December 26, 2021
December 3, 2021
What Lies Ahead
Out for a walk through the neighborhood, I notice a piece of paper in the grass by the sidewalk. Picking it up, I see that it is a page from a book, the edges burned. I look around. The house on the corner has a collapsed roof, blackened windows, soot stains streaking the yellow brick and white wood trim. Again, I look at the page in my hand, the title barely readable along the top, “If The Bomb Gets Out Of Hand.”
cloaked
in morning fog . . .
secrets untold
cloaked
in morning fog . . .
secrets untold
October 15, 2021
October 11, 2021
Silent Night
It is a moonless night and I stand in the doorway as a streetlight flickers on and off. Somewhere in the distance is the lonesome sound of a train whistle. Wind chimes ring softly with the breeze. I contemplate the latest news on her medical treatment, “as well as to be expected.”
darkness
and in time light . . .
trusting
darkness
and in time light . . .
trusting
September 18, 2021
Ikebana - Roses
Ikebana - Roses, mixed media
Exhibited at ARTFall 2021
Wilmington Community Arts Center, Wilmington, North Carolina
Sep 24 - Oct 2, 2021
Exhibited at ARTFall 2021
Wilmington Community Arts Center, Wilmington, North Carolina
Sep 24 - Oct 2, 2021
August 20, 2021
August 6, 2021
Haiku Award
The Peggy Willis Lyles Haiku Awards for 2021
Honorable Mention
conversation
lost in the crowd . . .
mockingbird song
Dan Hardison, Wilmington, North Carolina
"The juxtaposition of the first part of the haiku with “mockingbird song” is the hook. The ellipsis is well placed and is just enough punctuation to avoid a pivotal second line, which I believe would have weakened the poem in this instance. With only a few words, the author evokes several emotions. With my first reading, “lost in the crowd” brings a sense of tension, of feeling alone in spite of being surrounded by people. The crowd could be gathered anywhere. Perhaps this is an outdoor political rally, where hundreds of people are waiting for the candidate to speak. Entering the haiku, I allow myself to become part of the scene. Someone attempts to have a conversation with me, but we can’t hear each other amid the laughing, yelling throng. Our words are absorbed by the noise around us, our conversation lost in the growing crowd. Angry shouts mix with the laughter, making me uneasy. Suddenly I hear a voice that grounds me, so true and bright it pierces the surrounding clamor. The beautiful, clear notes of mockingbird song rise on a course above the human roughness."
Judge’s Comments – Ferris Gilli
Editor’s Note: A total of 3,115 poems were submitted to this year’s contest, by a total of 739 poets.
July 23, 2021
July 16, 2021
Ancestry
The old photograph shows my grandmother and grandfather, now long departed, sitting on their front porch. A rain lily, one of my grandmother’s favorite flowers, can be seen beside them. A descendant of my grandmother’s rain lily now sits outside my front door.
holding the warmth
of memories and love . . .
tattered quilt
holding the warmth
of memories and love . . .
tattered quilt
July 3, 2021
June 23, 2021
Goodbyes
A siren piercing the night is not unusual when you live across the street from a fire station, but this time is different. The sound has stopped outside our house. Rousing now, I find flashing lights on the windows. As I step outside, EMT attendants wheel my elderly neighbor to a waiting ambulance.
morning greets
the little white dog . . .
new home
morning greets
the little white dog . . .
new home
March 26, 2021
March 1, 2021
Her Name Was Mary
My grandparents spent long hours operating their small-town grocery. Mary helped by preparing meals. As kids, we would race to the kitchen to visit with her. A big woman with a big smile, she would be standing there in her ruffled apron. When asked how a dish was prepared, her polite response would be to use a pinch of this and a little of that – never measuring. Mary was black, my family white. I grew up during the 1960s, but never understood what segregation meant until schools desegregated. Mary has been gone many years, yet when I am in the kitchen preparing something new, I think to myself, “What would Mary do?”
standing
with you beside me . . .
shadows
standing
with you beside me . . .
shadows
— Dan Hardison
First photo of Mary by Sammy Hardison, second photo of Mary, Sammy Hardison and Clare Hardison by unknown. Columbia, Tennessee
"Her Name Was Mary" was included in the call for poetry based on the Cameron Art Museum's two exibitions Willie Cole’s Black Art Matters and The Face of Lincoln, February 2021.
The haibun originally appeared in the journal Haibun Today, March 2014, Vol 8, No 1.
"Her Name Was Mary" was included in the call for poetry based on the Cameron Art Museum's two exibitions Willie Cole’s Black Art Matters and The Face of Lincoln, February 2021.
The haibun originally appeared in the journal Haibun Today, March 2014, Vol 8, No 1.
February 21, 2021
Day's Gone By
Haiku and image by Dan Hardison
This haiga was selected for inclusion in the annual Contemporary Haibun anthology, Volumn 16. The printed book is made available through Red Moon Press and can be found at Amazon.
The haiga originally appeared at the journal Haigaonline, Spring 2020, Issue 21-1.
This haiga was selected for inclusion in the annual Contemporary Haibun anthology, Volumn 16. The printed book is made available through Red Moon Press and can be found at Amazon.
The haiga originally appeared at the journal Haigaonline, Spring 2020, Issue 21-1.
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