Surging Pacific Haiku

Yellowing Memories, IX

surging Pacific ...

on its other shore mom waved

I wave back in dreams

NeverEnding Story, July 21 2026

FYI: This could be read as a prequel to my haiku below:

wind-torn clouds

the surging winter ocean

between mom and me

Wales Haiku Journal, Winter 2024/25

And This could be read as a sequel to my tanka prose below:

The Point of No Return

On the day of my emigration to Canada, a land of maple leaves and snowflakes that will eventually bury my past.

a parting

of summer clouds

mother

lets go of my hand

. . . and of my heart

Ribbons, 16:1, Winter 2020

Other Side of Mother Haiku

written for International Women's Day

a box of letters

beneath the attic lamplight

other side of Mother

NeverEnding Story, March 8 2026

FYI: For more poems about International Women's Day, see "Special Feature: Selected Poems for Reflections on Many Faces of Womanhood"

Comfort of Routine Tanka

alone in half-light

my mother folding clothes

like a retail pro ...

the comfort of routine

in this war-shaken world

Cold Moon Journal, September 5 2025

Obituary Clippings Haiku

obituary clippings

in Mother's catch-all drawer ...

winter solitude

Kokako, 43, 2025

Farewell Tanka

Mother's farewell

lasts far into my first night ...

Taiwan, lone island

seen through the airplane window

as my lower lip trembles

Cold Moon Journal, June 19, 2025

Heart Haiku

dusty attic trunk …

the parts of mother’s heart

never open to me

First Place, Vanguard Haiku, World Haiku Review, Spring, 2025

Blooming Faces Haiku

blooming faces

mother's water sprinkler

spouts a rainbow

NeverEnding Story, May 11 2025

Winter Ocean Haiku

wind-torn clouds

the surging winter ocean

between mom and me

Wales Haiku Journal, Winter 2024/25 

Blooming Faces Haiku

blooming faces

mother's water sprinkler

spouts a rainbow

NeverEnding Story, March 8 2025

Added:

dewdrops on the tip of a leaf

the ballerina holds her pose

Added:

the tattered banner

not one woman less

not one more death

flapping in evening chill ...

a long scream cuts to silence

FYI: For more about poems for International Women's Day, see Special Feature: Selected Poems on Women Navigating Their Multi-Faceted Lives

Surging Winter Ocean Haiku

wind-torn clouds

the surging winter ocean

between mom and me

Wales Haiku Journal, Winter 24/25

A Corner of This Broken World

After a long pause, her voice cracking on the phone, my Israeli friend tells me, "I don't know how to calm my two girls. We're near the border, and they're frightened by the piercing sound of fighter jets constantly flying over our community. Sometimes, they can hear the boom, boom, boom from a distance just minutes after fighter jets fly past our house. I can only comfort them by saying that these are good booms. I feel guilty, I... " My friend hangs up the phone.

the sunset

in a blaze of orange and red

across the sky ...

Gazan children's faces raw

with fear of the unknown

Ribbons, 20:2, Autumn/Winter 2024

FYI: For more poems about the Israel-Hamas War, Special Feature, October 7: Selected Poems for Reflections on "CeaseFire Now" and "Saving the Children"

Quilt Haiku

tenth year in exile ...

the frayed edges

of my mother's quilt

The Heron's Nest, 26:3, 2024

Rent Hike Senryu

another rent hike ...

one more dip into the bank

of Mom and Dad

Failed Haiku, 9:100, 2024

Southbound Geese haiku

southbound geese the way mother waves goodbye

The Pan Haiku Review, 3, 2024

Worry Beads Haiku

the click, click

of mother's worry beads ...

war news on mute

The Zen Space, Summer 2024

Dimpled Smile Tanka

the dimpled smile

on a young mother's face

in sunlight

the brush of a butterfly

against her baby's finger

Shot Glass Journal, 43, 2024

Exile Tanka

Mother once sighed,

you've spoken English for too long

you might forget me ...

exiled for years, I can't recall

which language I dream in

Cold Moon Journal, June 5, 2024

Mother's Day As Usual

model planes

hung from a starry ceiling

that quiet room

this burden

of the morning silence

her absent son

height marks on the wall

day after day still a boy

in her mind's eye

Fireflies' Light, April, 2024

Mother and Father

the urge to look at

and to look away from him

scolding his boy

near the candy shelf ... this flushed face

of my six-year-old self

calling from Taiwan

my mother cries, laughs and cries ...

peeling back

layers of memories

about my stubborn childhood

waking yet not quite ...

in the dawnlight through the gap

between curtains

mother holds my six-year-old self

as father fades into darkness

The Bamboo Hut,1, 2024

The Smell of Home

I stop father 

from taking the sixth bun

for breakfast--

their scent like the ones

his mother made long ago

Dad, I'm Chen-ou ...

he runs his fingers again

through his white hair

as though puzzled

by an ungraspable thought

what kind of life

is our father living now?

my brother replies,

last Sunday after eating buns

Father said, Mmm, boy! Good!

The Bamboo Hut,1, 2024