Priscilla Lignori
Born 1953 in Brooklyn, New York USA
Living in Montgomery, New York USA
walk in the evening—
reminiscent of mom’s touch
this soft balmy breeze
Slipping off the branch—
the snow finally reaches
its destination
An approaching storm—
we go past the bouncing loons
as we head to shore
obedient only
to herself: morning glory
defies the evening
R.H Blyth Award - March 2019 Issue of World Haiku Review Honorable Mention
left on the driveway
surrounded by its petals—
the cherry blossom
playing peek-a-boo
with all the village joggers
the moon behind trees
arranging boxes
in the attic, to the beat
of the winter rain
World Haiku 2019 Nov 15
(First Published in Beak Open, Feet Relaxed: 108 Haiku)
An outstretched hand--
oak tree lying on the ground
after the spring storm
I can’t tell whether
they’re coming or going
wild geese in flight
A drop of spring rain
rolls down the closed windowpane
carrying the sun
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 33 No. 10 374 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2019)
Early morning mist—
a woodpecker's hammering
draws us to the woods
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 33 No. 10 374 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2019)
Memorial Day
safely away from men's wars —
eaglet in her nest
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 33 No. 10 374 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2019)
Old man on the bench—
sits close to the edge reading
the summer river
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 33 No. 10 374 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2019)
From the neighbor’s yard —
Rose of Sharon leans over
the dividing fence
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 33 No. 10 374 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2019)
Summer morning view—
a thin cloud hangs in the sky
like an afterthought
Unmoved by the waves
cause by the slow motorboat—
turtle on a log
Morning glory vine
grabs at anything it can
even the thin air
Boy with a conch shell—
carries the entire ocean
next to his small ear
Walking barefoot on
the beach as long as I can—
seagulls overhead
Eastern Structures No. 11 October 10, 2019
In grandson's pocket
they bump into each other—
the colored beach stones
Cabbage butterflies
wander around the backyard
collecting sunbeams
Simply listening
to the rain falling on leaves–
a barred owl and I
The storm has arrived—
the scarecrow out in the field
gives up his straw hat
Box in the attic--
finding Valentine’s Day cards
that were never sent
Hanging by itself
though still tied to the others—
blue morning glory
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 32 No. 10 362 Issue AUTUMN-WINTER 2018)
They live together
without much difficulty—
mixed chrysanthemums
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 33 No. 4 368 Issue AUTUMN-WINTER 2018)
From bush to tree to
bush again—two cardinals
playing in the snow
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 33 No. 4 368 Issue AUTUMN-WINTER 2018)
Combing the child’s hair —
a few loose strands get caught
in the Christmas pin
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 33 No. 4 368 Issue AUTUMN-WINTER 2018)
First day of the year
grandma’s dentures go missing
in the nursing home
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 33 No. 4 368 Issue AUTUMN-WINTER 2018)
Hanging icicle—
now comes to its fateful end
drip by solemn drip
Palm Sunday morning—
door after door slamming shut
in church parking lot
He stays in the rain
long enough to drip silver—
the tufted titmouse
Mother's Day flowers
stopping on the ones I choose
a black swallowtail
First day of the year
we return to our hometown
with sister's ashes
On the elliptical
walking as fast as I can—
November snowstorm
A scent in the air
brought home from the funeral—
the white carnations
Shaking the office
with its rumble and whistle—
a train in winter
With just one hard shake
the tree limb covered with snow
becomes brown again
Eastern Structures 9 - March 12, 2019
Winter solstice moon—
the perfect finishing touch
on a day well spent
A yearly ritual
shaking up the world inside
the Christmas snow globe
During the snowstorm
snapping legos into place—
child by the fire
The evening's settled
each snowflake is in its place
but the cat's awake
A leak in the roof —
the spring rain slips unnoticed
into the attic
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 32 No. 10 362 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2018)
Drawn to the window —
the first firefly...and children
wearing pajamas
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 32 No. 10 362 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2018)
Picking fresh basil —
hidden under the curved leaf
a small white spider
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 32 No. 10 362 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2018)
Summer shooting star—
slowly a handful of sand
slips through my fingers
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 32 No. 10 362 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2018)
Low tide at the beach—
a snail comes out of its shell
on granddaughter’s palm
Ko Haiku Magazine In English (Vol 32 No. 10 362 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2018)
Checking the weather—
a bumblebee fast asleep
on a stiff blossom
Indian summer
the fire hydrants are flushed
inside the village
Eastern Structures No. 8 - October 24, 2018
A man by the lake—
trees cast their autumn colors
near his fishing line
Eastern Structures No. 8 - October 24, 2018
Having restless dreams—
autumn leaves rustling outside
the bedroom window
Eastern Structures No. 8 - October 24, 2018
A brisk autumn wind—
shakes everything that's hanging
except for the moon
Eastern Structures No. 8 - October 24, 2018
Spitting the pits out—
bowl full of cherries dwindles
as we watch the news
Eastern Structures No. 8 - October 24, 2018
Shrouded in the mist--
the cormorant on a rock
seems other-worldly
Bloomed forsythia —
out comes the old gardener
with the pruning shears
The sun heats the day—
untangling the water hose
left out overnight
Eastern Structures No. 7 - September 20, 2018
The end of the day—
as the sun slips out of sight
kids dive in the pool
Eastern Structures No. 7 - September 20, 2018
Their volume turns up
as the village settles down—
gossiping crickets
Eastern Structures No. 7 - September 20, 2018
Their numbers increased
after yesterday's pep talk—
pink petunias
Not just for the day
but for the rest of its life—
closed morning glory
Eastern Structures No. 7 - September 20, 2018
Flowering dogwoods—
slowly we all line up for
family photo
6th Japan-Russia Haiku Contest.
Akita International University President’s Award
I sweep them away
a sudden wind brings them back—
leaves on the front steps
the harvested field
migrant worker lifts his eyes
toward the mountain
Tokutomi Memorial Contest 2017
https://yukiteikei.files.wordpress.com/2017/11/tokutomi-2017.pdf
top of the mountain—
I entrust all my prayers
to the summer breeze
to the used book store—
carrying father's old books
and smells of autumn
World Haiku Review, March 2018 Honorable Mention Honorable Mention
on a bicycle
learning to balance again—
sixty-three years young
Firehouse siren—
the cicada hymn goes on
uninterrupted
The Mainichi, August 15, 2017
The guests arrive late—
praying mantis takes its time
on the porch railing
parking off the road
to check our destination—
early plum blossoms
they cling stubbornly
even as winter deepens—
red maple's dead leaves
World Haiku Review March 2018
Valentine's Day news
the heavy-heartedness spreads —
a mass school shooting
dusk in the village
the cherry blossoms transform
from pink to purple
on bicycle tour
we slowly pedal uphill—
dragonfly flits by
World Haiku Review, August 2017
the internet down
circling around the room
an elusive fly
with his wings outstretched
he’s steadier than the kite ―
crow riding the wind
World Haiku Review, August 2017
Darkness comes later
the orange blossom tea tastes
better then ever
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 31 No.10 350 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2017)
Flowering dogwood—
every petal brings to mind
a wound in Christ’s hand
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 31 No.10 350 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2017)
From funeral home
we leave with mother's ashes—
a chickadee calls
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 31 No.10 350 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2017)
Under the table
I reach for my napkin and
find a spider web
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 31 No.10 350 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2017)
Following me around
the pond — the singsong voices
of the chickadees
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 31 No.10 350 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2017)
The moon's out tonight—
and the fireflies are meeting
in the church courtyard
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 31 No.10 350 Issue SPRING-SUMMER 2017)
cleaning up my tools
after gardening, fireflies
become visible
World Haiku 2018: No.14
along the shoreline
a young boy collects seashells
even broken ones
World Haiku 2018: No.14
they can’t be erased—
the past and my father’s name
engraved in hard stone
Confined by the snow
and a pile of paperwork—
I order new beads
Three crows disappear
deep into the winter woods
exchanging secrets
Eastern Structures No. 6 (Volume 1) April 26, 2018
Lingering winter—
grandfather's old clock's always
five minutes behind
Eastern Structures No. 6 (Volume 1) April 26, 2018
The ice on the stream—
easily cracked by the weight
of a walking stick
They hide in between
the trees' shaky reflections
tadpoles in the stream
Just before Easter—
passing through the great tunnel
to the other side
It hides in its leaves—
the lavender scent until
the breeze finds it
Passing by the house
a funeral procession—
the quince in full bloom
Eastern Structures No. 6 (Volume 1) April 26, 2018
Early morning mist—
we paddle our old canoes
closer to the shore
Hitting the pothole
in the middle of the road—
dug by the spring rains
Back in the garden
amid the visiting birds—
the Kuan Yin statue
A seamless grey sky—
I can’t find the edges where
the snow’s sneaking through
Night of the new moon
once again the light goes out
on the reading lamp
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 32 No.4 356 Issue AUTUMN-WINTER 2017)
Inside the edges
of an autumn day—a light
steady rain’s falling
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 32 No.4 356 Issue AUTUMN-WINTER 2017)
Dusted with fresh snow
the cat shakes most of it off
on the kitchen floor
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 32 No.4 356 Issue AUTUMN-WINTER 2017)
Sweeping the snow off
the front steps, already some
has become hardened
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 32 No.4 356 Issue AUTUMN-WINTER 2017)
Taking measured steps—
junco, though the snow’s knee-deep
is too light to sink
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 32 No.4 356 Issue AUTUMN-WINTER 2017)
Lingering awhile
though nothing holds them up—
the grey mountain mists
A deer family
visits the small village's
old cemetery
Leaving the river
they embrace the winter wind—
two wild geese in flight
First winter fire—
unpacking our belongings
sand falls from my shoes
Waking to church bells—
morning frost painted petals
on the windowpane
Christmas tree needle
stuck under my fingernail
draws a bit of blood
Long winter night walk—
never have I heard my own
footsteps so clearly
The end of the year—
marked by the parking ticket
left on the windshield
Asahi Haikuist Network December 15, 2017
Traveling upstream
a slick family of four—
Adirondack loons
Asahi Haikuist Network December 15, 2017
Posing as a leaf—
cardinal on a tree branch
on Thanksgiving Day
Asahi Haikuist Network December 1, 2017
Cupping its small hand
to catch anything that falls―
blue morning glory
A certain calling
draws me deep into the woods―
ancestor voices
The only green thing
amid the oaks in the woods—
my polar fleece hat
An altar set up―
rich with family photos
of the departed
Traveling the same
road I always travel on—
lengthening shadows
Asahi Haikuist Network Oct 6, 2017Oct 6, 2017
A fractured shoulder
a hospital stay— and gold
of the sunflowers
The last drops of milk
poured into an empty glass—
sound of melting snow
Departing blue jay—
a tail feather left behind
on the hiker’s path
What keeps them in place?
the summer stars all hanging
without any hooks
A loon calling out —
this whether anyone is
listening or not
Cricket in the house
caught singing between the snores
of our napping guest
Coming out at dusk —
heron joins the fishing crew
at the river's edge
From the mountaintop
a view of other mountains —
scattering ashes
Bagging the raked leaves —
finding an old "to do" list
underneath a pile
Not a trace remains
of the last snowfall, except
for the running stream
Quarterday - A Journal of Classical Poetry Vol 3 Issue 1 Imbolc 2017
Edited by LJ McDowall
Sunlight reflected
in the long icicle melts
right along with it
Quarterday - A Journal of Classical Poetry Vol 3 Issue 1 Imbolc 2017
Edited by LJ McDowall
Half of the spring moon
slips out of the sky's pocket
and floats on the lake
Quarterday - A Journal of Classical Poetry Vol 3 Issue 1 Imbolc 2017
Edited by LJ McDowall
Rain comes to an end
the sound of a running stream
in the warbler's voice
Quarterday - A Journal of Classical Poetry Vol 3 Issue 1 Imbolc 2017
Edited by LJ McDowall
A ceremony—
geese waddle into the lake
from the snowy field
Holy Saturday—
the sun's warming up the stones
in the church graveyard
The color of blood
next to my ivory skin—
crabapple blossom
Sky full of swallows—
I stop to collect my thoughts
by the faded barn
Expecting nothing—
the woodpecker pecks the bark
of the dead oak tree
Next to the graveyard
it's a wordless existence—
bloomed magnolia
A wild columbine
grows out of the hidden dirt
inside the stone's cracks
The girl on the swing—
suspended for a moment
above the green world
A cloudy morning—
the carpenter ants line up
on the clothesline rope
The water strider—
stands still in the middle of
the moving river
flowering dogwood—
mother’s belongings all fit
into one suitcase
A lighter blue than
the morning glory that closed—
his hospital gown
His motion maintained
by slow powerful strokes—
flight of the blue heron
Night of the new moon—
over the Catskill mountains
clouds pass by like dreams
The last drops of milk
poured into an empty glass—
sound of melting snow
The Wallkill River—
wild geese descend one by one
on icy water
Tying the last knot
on the new cord rosary—
end of the debate
Lingering longer
than usual, they are now
autumn butterflies
Announcing nightfall
or perhaps the fall of man--
departing wild geese
The weathervane’s still
though there’s movement in the air—
blackbird migration
September birthday—
amid the gifts and wishes
lengthening shadows
Ancient transmissions—
mosquitoes spread malalria
with a single bite
Asahi Haikuist Network (August 5, 2016)
Alone at the beach—
the ocean waves move closer
an inch at a time
Ready for dinner—
fly on the kitchen table
rubs two of its legs
Trip to the Catskills—
the wind and each bump we hit
jiggles the canoe
Late into the night
reading haiku from Buson—
hazy moon of spring
Holy Saturday—
a hazy moon standing guard
above the graveyard
Turkey family—
found wobbling across the field
chasing after spring
The newborn grasses
tickle the soles of my feet—
childhood once again …
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 30 No.10 SPRING-SUMMER 2016)
Dead tree in the marsh—
inside its small hole the blue
of a swallow’s head
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 30 No.10 SPRING-SUMMER 2016)
Bumping each other
as they land on the same bloom—
two large bumblebees
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 30 No.10 SPRING-SUMMER 2016)
Buckling the child in—
a butterfly flutters by
with sun on its wings
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 30 No.10 SPRING-SUMMER 2016)
On the same branch, at
the same time, they bloom and die —
purple petunias
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 30 No.10 SPRING-SUMMER 2016)
Morning glory vine
in search for something to hold
begins its long climb
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 31 No.4 AUTUMN-WINTER 2016)
A stand by the road—
chrysanthemums for sale, and
one free butterfly
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 31 No.4 AUTUMN-WINTER 2016)
A town board meeting
autumn wind shuffles the leaves
in the parking lot
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 31 No.4 AUTUMN-WINTER 2016)
Through the winter fog
distant shapes come into view —
deer crossing the road
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 31 No.4 AUTUMN-WINTER 2016)
The new year begins
a junco and I sit still
for a miracle
Kõ Haiku Magazine in English (Vol. 31 No.4 AUTUMN-WINTER 2016)
Sitting in the vase
with nothing to celebrate—
the blue irises
Stirring the waters
with the black canoe paddle—
the white clouds are bent
At home in the dark—
the pale moon and the horned owl
watching from the tree
Under autumn stars
I'm smaller than the pebble
stuck inside my shoe
Readying for bed—
one last glance out the window
at the wind-blown snow
Acorns at my feet
and a few in my pocket —
a walk in the woods
A sudden warming —
sap flows out of the maple
from one of its wounds
A walk in the woods
suddenly a shift in mood —
bluebird on a branch
More visible now—
the robin's nest left behind
in the maple tree
an awakening —
the frogs as the morning sun
fills all crevices
a gentle spring wind —
cattails are undecided
which way to move
lilies of the valley
exist without a worry
but only briefly
Keeping a light on
for guests who are coming late—
watchful harvest moon
At the polling place —
reaching into my purse to
find my new glasses
The calls of wild geese —
waking to the autumn moon
also departing
A good walking stick
as we hike the rocky trail—
the fallen tree branch
Becoming one arm—
the paddle and the one who
moves it in the lake
Park closes at dusk —
already the hooting owl
is pitying me
Stepping on shadows
more than a hundred years old—
walk along the pines
On the precipice
all the leaves turning yellow
remind me of me
A walk in the rain
sidestepping all the puddles
and slippery leaves
Autumn butterflies—
I'm guided towards the field
prayer beads in hand
Night sky split open—
with the last swing of the axe
stars are shaken lose
Undressing the corn
golden hairs on the counter
and the kitchen floor
Shots heard in the dark
and the moon's so far away—
coyote hunting
At the coffeehouse
all the instruments are tuned—
winter’s crescent moon
Sunday morning’s moon—
it near slipped into the arms
of a snowy pine
Eastern Structures No. 2 (Volume 1) October 23, 2016
Under the weather
I sit by the bedroom window
counting snow flurries
Brief enlightenment—
frog leaps out of the water
and touches the earth
Ready to respond
I search through the cluttered desk
for the Christmas card
The snow's piling up—
my new year resolutions
keep getting weaker
Unable to see
the depth of his own blackness—
crow standing on ice