Priscilla Lignori
Born 1953 in Brooklyn, New York USA
Living in Montgomery, New York USA
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
Nothing's what it seems
in the world of men — I turn
to the summer moon
World Haiku Review, August 2014
Second Place, Shintai
Summer reverie —
a sailboat travels through stars
scattered on the sea
World Haiku Review, August 2014
Honorable Mention
An afternoon nap
cicada in the background
slips into my dream
Ko Magazine
Spring/Summer 2014
Bloomed magnolia tree
a man lifts his daughter up
to smell a blossom
World Haiku Review, April 2014
Honorable Mention
On the cutting board—
chopping scallions and garlic
and all my worries
Ko Magazine
Spring/Summer 2014
In the midst of war the wind blows
wildflower seeds
across the border
World Haiku Review, August 2014
Honorable Mention
Waking to the song
of the white-throated sparrow—
holy week begins
The Mainichi
June 5, 2014
April shower
recounting the morning's dreams
under the covers
World Haiku Review
April 2014
Atop village trees
the blackbirds are whispering—
walk on Good Friday
Asahi Haikuist Network
May 16, 2014
Pondering their fate
in the time of fireflies—
the war in Gaza
World Haiku Review
August 2014
Private property
leaves from the leaning oak tree
are now trespassing
World Haiku 2014
(Ban'ya Natsuishi anthology)
I’m out of the woods—
searching for the spider web
that clings to my skin
Ko Magazine
Autumn-Winter 2014
I cannot read one
without thinking of Shiki—
persimmon haiku
Asahi Haikuist Network
October 31, 2014
A winter morning—
chanting and a tea kettle
whistling out of tune
Ko Magazine
Autumn/Winter 2014
Peeling potatoes
the cat rolls on his backside
and lets out a yawn
Asahi Haikuist Network
October 17, 2014
The great blue heron
waits until the canoe's closer
to fly far away
The Mainichi
November 27, 2014
Expecting a frost-—
the dahlias are now sitting
in the living room
Asahi Haikuist Network
December 5, 2014
A cold winter rain
sizzling in the frying pan
sweet potato fries
The Mainichi
March 26, 2014
So full of itself
the winter moon spills on all
the slippery roads
World Haiku Review
January 2014
along the river
students set up their easels
the scent of wild grape
2015 Tokutomi Memorial Contest Second Place
Passing the gold thread
through the needle's eye, spring sun
enters the closed blinds
Basho Festival Contest Certificate October 2015
arm of the cross —
temporary resting place
for the wandering crow
World Haiku Review, Summer 2015
First Place - Vanguard Haiku
A winter bonus-—
two extra grandchildren at
the dinner table...
Asahi Haikuist Network December 18, 2015
They'll never fit me
but I still hold on to them —
mother's wool slippers
Ko Magazine Autumn-Winter 2015
As the sun beats down
a great murmur from the lake
from the melting ice
Asahi Haikuist Network March 06, 2015
after the snowstorm
not a bird in sight and still
sound of the crow’s call
Crimson dragonfly —
alights on the fishing pole
of the dozing man
Ko Magazine Autumn-Winter 2015
Slipping a green stone
inside my empty pocket
turns my luck around
The Mainichi July 21, 2015
Always wandering —
my cat inside the kitchen
outside, autumn leaves
Ko Magazine Autumn-Winter 2015
forsythia buds —
countless golden beginnings
on a single branch
World Haiku Review Summer 2015
As the sun goes round
migrants traverse the desert
of the human heart
Asahi Haikuist Network September 18, 2015
The tiger lily--
once it opens its mouth
has at least six tongues
The Mainichi October 8, 2015
the path turns to mud —
great hope of catching a glimpse
of the waking frogs
World Haiku Review, Summer, 2015 Honorable Mention
Vernal equinox —
the darker moments erased
from our memories...
Asahi Haikuist Network March 20, 2015
Quietly we wait
on a rock inside the woods
for the frogs to call
Ko Magazine Spring-Summer 2015
a hike in the woods —
the walking stick can’t save me
from the mosquitoes
The closer I get
to the yellow tulips
the lonelier I am
Ko Magazine Spring-Summer 2015
The tide's coming in
and children's glee gets louder —
sunset in Cape Cod
Asahi Haikuist Network August 7, 2015
Stretching their long necks —
wild turkeys as they climb up
a steep embankment
Ko Magazine Spring-Summer 2015
unexpectedly
they rise to the occasion
potted sunflowers
Missing the spruce tree
that stood between the others —
dusk on Father's Day
Ko Magazine Spring-Summer 2015
Birds have taken leave
and the wind keeps blowing leaves
every which way
Asahi Haikuist Network November 6, 2015
Inside the clear pond
along with dozens of leaves
the clouds have fallen
Ko Magazine Autumn-Winter 2015
Subway to Brooklyn—
returning once again to
the place of my birth
Asahi Haikuist Network January 16, 2015
The burial done
waiting on the car windshield
white apple blossoms
Honorable Mention
2014 Tokutomi Memorial Contest
Bleached by the sunlight
though its roots are in the dark
wheat turns into gold
Basho Festival Contest, October 2013
First Place
Restless as the wind
the shirt hanging on the line
by a mere clothespin
World Haiku Review August 2010
Stuck inside itself
until it’s cut open—
the watermelon
World Haiku Review August 2010
So soft to the touch
but harder than my own bones—
the weathered beach stone
The Mainichi Contest 2011 Honorable Mention
A spider and I
come out from under the weight
of the paperwork
World Haiku Review August 2010
Once it gets started
steam from the boiling water
joins the fresh spring air
Mid-winter break—
vultures gather on the roof
of old college building
The Mainichi March 18, 2013
On a winter hike
trailing behind unnoticed -
everyone’s shadow
World Haiku Review January 2011
The moon disappears—
singing the sun into being
cardinal at dawn
Lakeview International Journal of Literature and Arts
Vol 1 No. 2 August 2013
The girl on a swing
touches the cloudless blue sky
with her bare feet
The Mainichi June 12, 2013
Shaking their rattles
cicada calls come and go
with the summer breeze
World Haiku Review August 2013
Under the sun’s gaze—
I doze on the green hammock
all wrapped up in knots
World Haiku Review August 2013
On kitchen table
a small handful of acorns—
granddaughter visit
Asahi Haikuist Network July 19, 2013
As the stream narrows
inside the snowy forest—
the stones take over
Ko Magazine Autumn/Winter 2013
Spring sun at my desk
illuminates the dark print
of the newspaper
World Haiku Review, April 2012
Third Place, Neo-Classical
It has climbed so high
that it can never get down—
the moonflower vine
World Haiku 2013 (Ban'ya Natsuichi's anthology)
Holding onto dreams—
glass paperweight with tiny
hand-painted flowers
Ko Magazine Spring/Summer 2013
Summer at grandma's—
music box in the attic
plays "Edelweiss"
The Mainichi September 5, 2012
Pulling himself up
onto a log, turtle wastes
another warm day
Ko Magazine Spring/Summer 2013
A gust of spring wind
ruffles the distinguished crest
of the cardinal
World Haiku Review April 2013
News of the break-up—
a split pomegranate bleeds
on the cutting board
World Haiku Review December 2012
A winter evening—
lid on the simmering stew
shakes once in a while
Ko Magazine Autumn/Winter 2011
Caressed by the wind—
leaves of the sycamore tree
and the children’s hair
Asahi Haikuist Network August 30, 2013
Early winter rain—
playing solitaire with
the cat on my lap
World Haiku Review December 2012
Waking up at dawn—
the year's first sunrise and I
stretch by the window
Asahi Haikuist Network Jan 20, 2012
Born in still water–
a frog rests on the surface
of a restless world
World Haiku Review, April 2013
2nd Place, Neo Classical
On a spring evening
losing all of its edges
the stone church steeple
Ko Magazine Spring/Summer 2011
Basho Festival Certificate Contest 2011
Between the gravestones
where the lawnmower can't reach–
purple irises
World Haiku Review August 2011
For one long moment
before it crashes, the kite
dances with the wind
Ko Magazine Spring/Summer 2011
Left out in the rain
it is now filled up–teacup
near the petunias
Asahi Hakuist Network May 31, 2013
With the world at rest
the firefly becomes busy
lighting the darkness
World Haiku Review
August 2011
A small ladybug
escorted into the night
on my husband's thumb
World Haiku Review August 2012
Third Place, Shintai
Summer supermoon–
horses run at full gallop
inside the fenced field
The Mainichi August 30, 2013
Summer day visit–
so cold the marble stone
on my father’s grave
World Haiku Review August 2010
Yesterday’s paper
inside the wood-burning stove–
an evening at home
World Haiku Festival 2010 in Nagasaki Haiku Competition: General Category
On Veteran's Day
leaves and the flag are alike
to the blowing wind
World Haiku Review December 2011
First Place, Vanguard Haiku
Where the cornstalks were–
a hundred crows have landed
nodding their dark heads
World Haiku 2013 (Ban'ya's yearly anthology)
Chanting a sutra
from the corner of my eye
the silence of snow
Basho Festival Certificate Contest 2012
Owl in the village
hoots as we sort photographs
reviewing the year
Asahi Hakuist Network Jan 6. 2012
Deep conversation
and not a single word said–
sparrows in winter
World Haiku Review December 2011