Adelaide B. Shaw

Adelaide B. Shaw lives in Millbrook, NY.  She has been writing haiku and other Japanese short form poetry for over 45 years. Her haiku book, An Unknown Road, won third place in the Kanterman 2009 awards, and is available on Amazon Kindle.
Her haiku blog is: http://www.adelaide-whitepetals.blogspot.com


 

 

spattering rain . . .
in the woods ten minutes
and still not wet

Dragonfly, V.2, No. 2, April 1974

 

closed roller coaster
the winter sea rumbles
through the pilings

New Resonance 3, Red Moon Press, December 2003
Gatherings: An Anthology of Amusement Parks, Carnivals, Fairs and More, Bottle Rocket Press, Spring 2008

 

fading dusk
children and fireflies
dance on the lawn

Modern Haiku, V.34, No. 3, Summer 2003

 

dinner time–
bouncing through the playground
a wind filled bag

Raw Nervz, IX:2, summer 2004

 

a quiet afternoon
the pinwheel turns
only halfway

Heron’s Nest, v.6, No. 9, September 2004

 

the January cold–
a pile of walnut shells
found in the attic

South by Southeast, V. 12, No. 1, January 2005

 

pumpkin farm
spreading across the field
rows of people

Snapshots, #11, February 2006

 

the heavy air–
a pause at midday
to collect myself

Haiku Harvest, V. 6, No. 1, Spring 2006

 

nothing to do. . .
we sit and listen
to the pulsing heat

Haiku Harvest, V. 6, No. 1, Spring 2006

 

beach picnic
the rising tide nibbles
on the sand castle

Shamrock, #3 , 2007

 

two dragonflies
skimming over the pond–
frog on a rock

Simply Haiku, February, 2008

 

munching red grapes
this November morning
a crunch in my step

Simply Haiku, Autumn, 2008

 

fading blue sky–
insect voices
find their rhythm

Acorn, #20, Spring 2008

 

fresh eggs
in the winter hen house
warming my hands

Haiku Reality, June 12, 2008, Best of Issue

 

low tide–
something unseen
nibbling my toes

Presence #35, June 2008

 

April sunset–
the orange cat
visits again

Modern Haiku, 39:3, Autumn 2008

 

changing houses
the spring sun
gentles the move

3 Lights Gallery, October 2008

 

sitting with the night
the soft summer sibilance
of insect voices

Presence, #37, January 2009

 

tenth floor–
a picture window view
of fog

Notes from the Gean, No.1, June 2009

 

tea roses–
her memory clings
to the scent

Presence #39, September, 2009

 

mosquito landing–
the light touch on my hand
before it bites

Daily Haiku, March 4, 2010

 

leisurely lunch–
the bouquet of peonies
drops a petal

Daily Haiku, April, 27, 2011

 

full moon
on my neighbor’s porch
a new light

Daily Haiku, August 31, 2011

 

stacking stones
for a garden wall
the weight of their age

Kaji Asi Studio Contest, Honorable Mention, May 2012

 

Memorial Day
a passing dragonfly
dips its wings

Modern Haiku, V.43.3, Autumn, 2012

 

freshly plowed field–
purple wildflowers
outside the fence

Bottle Rockets, V.13, No.2, (#26) Winter 2012

 

Japanese garden
from one path to another
nothing on my mind

Under the Basho, 2014

 

the paper rustle
of eucalyptus–
still no rain

Heron’s Nest, Vol. XVI, No. 1, March 2014

 

cave echoes
my mistakes
come rushing back

Frogpond, v. 37:3, Autumn 2014


distant rumbles
a trembling surface
on the pond

Loch Raven Review, Vol. 11, No. 2, October 2015

 

cooler morning
the end of summer comes
with dewy feet

Bottle Rockets, Vol. 17, No 1, (No.33)

 

walking at night
my imagination
follows me home

Heron’s Nest, Vol. XVII, No. 2, June 2015

 

rolling fog
the bridge over the bay
split in two

Cattails, September 2015

 

picture window
a wasp tries
all directions

Bottle Rockets, Vol. 6, No.2, (No. 32)


lake reflections
the no color sky
of winter

Cattails, January 2015 

bees at work–
sweating out the afternoon
in the hammock

Cattails, September 2016

 

feathery clouds
trailing on the wind
apple blossoms

Basho Memorial Museum Basho Contest October 2016, Commendation

 

ice crusted snow
the crunch. . . crunch
of mocha toffee

A Hundred Gourds, 5:2, March 2016

 

pond willows–
a slight movement
in the algae

Presence  #55, Summer 2016

dandelions
filling the emptiness
between graves

Frogpond 39.3, Autumn 2016

 

ice floes–
stop and go traffic
on the river road

 

frigid temps–
the radiator’s soft ping
in the night


a wall of fog–
the early spring morning
begins with a fawn

 

spring thaw–
that dirt road
going nowhere still

 

February thaw–
the easy weight loss–
of the snowman

 

another birthday–
roadside wildflowers
past their peak

 

fire-red lilies–
a radiating heat
at sunset

 

day after Christmas
a dumped tree
still decorated

 

mountain cabin
discovering spring
on level ground

 

autumn decorations–
I let the leaves stay
where they fall