Keith Woodruff
Born in San Jose, California, in 1963. Currently living in Ohio and missing the ocean. I have an MA in poetry from Purdue U, and am honored to have had my work appear in Modern Haiku, Frogpond, Mayfly, Acorn, A Hundred Gourds, and the Big Sky: the Red Moon anthology.
for a moment
the new kitten
half in half out
Mayfly #22
under this moon –
not sure for a moment
how old you’d be
Snapshots #11 - also Big Sky: Red Moon Anthology
the owl’s call
a bit closer –
your empty room
Snapshots #11
kissing her nipple –
the memory of his mouth
not sucking
Snapshots #11
we bang our bowls clean
against a pine – a sound so old
I remember dying
Frogpond 27:2
dry spell –
the hard nests of mud wasps
that began as rain
Presence #24
the odor
of blown out candles
moonlight entering
Modern Haiku 28:1
leaving for good –
I sneak past
morning glories
Modern Haiku 35:3
turning 50 –
the whole ocean
where I stood this morning
Honorable Mention, 2015 Griffin-Farlow Haiku Competition
night fishing
. . . watching the line
with my fingers
Acorn #36
gauzy moon
obscured by haze
. . . this morning’s ultra-sound
Mayfly #50
billions of galaxies
. . . my computer warns
I’ m out of space
Failed Haiku, Issue #3 March 2016
I take a page
out of his book
. . . it’s the last
Failed Hailed, Issue #4 April 2015
They keep fighting
to keep minimum wage minimum –
I think of Basho’s cormorants
Cattails, May 2016
moonlight
softens the junkyard wrecks
. . . the sound of geese leaving
Bottle Rockets #34
my mother’s red hands after canning the dragonfly’s weight
Bones, Journal for Contemporary Haiku #9
cicada
. . . not a song
. . . not a cry
– just
Presence #54
not one dog
answers the siren
. . . deep winter
The Heron’s Nest XVII, Number 4
driving to work
. . . less and less each day
the dead squirrel
A Hundred Gourds 5:2
our dog
dead for months
we still sleep apart
Frogpond 39:1
a sparrow skull
in my palm –
the weight of so little
Frogpond 39:2