HOMEHaiku GatheringAkitsu QuarterlyWrenKuWild GoodsWordpressnut hut booksHours

WrenKu  ~  a tight-knit trio of haijin who meet periodically by the hearth, by the sea and in the garden for the sharing of haiku, senryu, kasen renku & other related forms ...
Pat Davis
Robin White
Pat Davis is a retired elementary school teacher, who returned to writing haiku after a forty year hiatus, in which time she raised a family, returned to college, and taught school. She was motivated to write again while at the Second Haiku Gathering at Wild Graces in Deerfield, NH in September of 2015. She enjoys her family, reading, painting, and keeping in touch with friends. 
on a ginko    
with my secret
name



seashells
the blind girl's
arrangement



e-book
nowhere to press
a flower
       

Robin White is the founding editor of AKITSU QUARTERLY and the hostess of the ANNUAL HAIKU GATHERINGS AT WILD GRACES.  Her poetry has appeared in various publications including Modern Haiku, Rolling Stone, bottle rockets, Frogpond, Woodnotes and Moonbathing: A Journal of Women's Tanka.  She is also a potter, beekeeper & avid gardener.
my inner Chiyo-ni
walking the red path
to Chimayo

             ~ Earthsigns, Haiku North America, Santa Fe




stillness
not even a peep
from the peepers

            ~ Frogpond, vol. 43:1 Winter 2020                                     



breaking bread  . . .
the birds sing
for their crumbs

         ~ bottle rockets #40                                                              
two of us brush painting in turn autumn night   
~ Zen Master Ryokan
sumi-e by Robin White
Jeannie Martin
Jeannie Martin, haiku poet, teacher and retreat leader, has had her haiku poetry published in a variety of journals and magazines. She is the author of nine haiku chapbooks and two longer books of haiku and haiku reflections.

As a geriatric social worker, Jeannie has a special interest in haiku for people with memory loss and their care partners.

From her latest book, a touch of light:




cools my hand
as I warm it
stone



dawn rain
the warm curve
of my coffee cup



almost asleep
moonlight fills
the empty room