Nick Hoffman
Born 1970 in Oakland County, Michigan, USA
Living in Cork, Ireland
Nick Hoffman grew up in Michigan, but moved to Dublin, Ireland, in 1995. He now lives in Cork, Ireland's second city. His work has appeared in several journals including Acorn, Modern Haiku, Frogpond, The Heron’s Nest, Shamrock, Prune Juice, Failed Haiku, Scifaikuest and Star*Line.
power outage
candlelight in the windows
across the street
Acorn 34, Spring 2015
queen costume
my daughter says
I should bow
crosswalk
the pulse
of my daughter's hand
birthday cake
the cowboys and cowgirls
drop their guns
sleet . . .
the biscotti tin
full of clothes pegs
Modern Haiku 47.2, Summer 2016
dandelion patch:
our tomcat's
next life
Frogpond 39.2, Spring/Summer 2016
muggy night
her swimsuit drips
from the open window
Acorn 37, Fall 2016
the waitress
points the way to the toilet
with a coffeepot
the drive home . . .
in her small voice
grandma's "s" word
play date
snow white helps batman
onto a swing
false spring
I rub red marker
from her lips
Frogpond 40.1, Winter 2017
hunter’s moon
she picks a name for
the bathroom spider
Acorn 38, Spring 2017
wolf moon
behind a cloud
Orion draws his bow
Modern Haiku 48.2, Summer 2017
second date
I tell her I play
the accordion
fish moon
the stray cat's
third helping
scent of lavender
a bee
gets there first
dandelion seeds
floating across the stage
the young ballerinas
Modern Haiku 48.3, Autumn 2017
loan application
the chain
on the bank's pen
bed time
the fairy's
detachable wings
first spacewalk
each breath
a prayer
Scifaikuest XV:1, August 2018
stale morning smog . . .
an O2 cartridge rattles
into the beggar's cup
Star*Line 42.4, Fall 2019
so slowly
across the crosswalk . . .
this drifting leaf
Frogpond 42.1, Winter 2019
foliage drive –
the bright orange
of the fuel light
Frogpond 42.1, Winter 2019
vacation over
the house plant
back in the house
Modern Haiku 51.1, Winter-Spring 2020
frost on the fields
the truck hauling pigs
turns off the main road
The Heron's Nest - Volume XXII, Number 1: March 2020
mom’s weekend away
dad cooks
our eggs “Navy style”
best friend’s girl
I taste the nicotine
on her tongue
late night revisions . . .
my haiku drifts
into senryu
New Year’s Eve –
the first firework
wakes the cat
quiet night in
he balances a beer can
on his belly