Gideon Young
Gideon Young is a member of the Carolina African American Writers’ Collective, a Fellow for A+ Schools of North Carolina, a K-12 Literacy Specialist, and a stay-at-home dad. His debut haiku collection my hands full of light was published by Backbone Press (2021). His poetry is included in Best Spiritual Literature 2022 (Orison Books) and was nominated for the Pushcart Prize. Gideon is co-author of One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku, published by Unicorn Press, 2017, winner of the Haiku Society of America Merit Award for Best Anthology. Find recent and forthcoming work in Callaloo, Journal of Black Mountain College Studies, Juxta 8, North Carolina Literary Review, Our State Magazine, and Pan Haiku Review. Winner of a 2023 Arts in Education Artist Residency Grant from the North Carolina Arts Council, discover more at www.gideonyoung.com.
wave ebb
I scoop up
the moon
A Curious Honeybee
glass on the sidewalk
we step over
sunset
A Curious Honeybee
mango popsicle
my skin
full of sun
A Curious Honeybee
frog heart
thumping
through skin
A Curious Honeybee
long drought
a tiny spider
sips dew
A Curious Honeybee
snowfall
our favorite book
lights the screen
A Curious Honeybee
a curious honeybee
my hands
at rest
A Curious Honeybee
glass jar
lids jingle
lightning bugs
A Curious Honeybee
hot morning
all through the playground
songbirds hop
A Curious Honeybee
Ernie Barnes * (July 15, 1938 – April 27, 2009)
forthcoming in Callaloo November 2022
train screech
both of my hands
in Mama’s hand
pudgy fingers
sure hold
thin paintbrush
sunrise dew
the long green field
sparkles
the silence
just before
the catch
words they bawl
from scorching stands…
swirl of oil and violet
helmets clatter
in mesh bag over-the-shoulder
sunset
a new canvas / on Daddy’s withered white fence
museum gallery
under the spotlight
his sway of hips
jump ropes
long brown limbs
flash in the sun
Black men
heaving together
morning sky
* Ernie Barnes was born in Durham, N.C., attended North Carolina College (now HBCU North Carolina Central University), and played in the NFL for five years. Barnes is well-known for his unique style of movement in his paintings.
strawberry moon
a glacier
creaks
The Nasher Museum of Art at Duke University: Haiku in the Rain
warfare gas
still trying to see
the North Star
The Nasher Museum of Art at Duke University: Haiku in the Rain
fireflies
filling the dark
a protest song
The Nasher Museum of Art at Duke University: Haiku in the Rain
for us
never a day
without rain
NC Criminal Justice Community calendar
baby’s first Sunday
folded lemonbalm
under his nose
my hands full of light
long power lines
hum
of the furrowed field
my hands full of light
seeding clover
same zephyr
from years ago
my hands full of light
tortoise shell—
the North Star
in my skin
my hands full of light
low thunder
our newborn asleep
on my chest
my hands full of light
last glimpse of dream
a royal iris
sprouts
my hands full of light
blue of winter
moonlight
jazz bassline
my hands full of light
valley fog
v of geese
gold in last light
my hands full of light
shaded chickadee
her first notes
an Ellington tune
my hands full of light
tiny finger
looping the sky
Evening bat
my hands full of light
early frost
on the long grass
a silent hare
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
water from the sky
bit by bit
I turn to dust
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
abandoned farmhouse
bare oak trees
thick with vultures
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
ripples in the pond
beyond the tall pines
day’s last glow
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
fallen leaves
frog legs dangle
from the heron’s beak
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
garden dirt crumbles
between my fingers
the sound of wind
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
spring blacksnake
scaleshine half-hidden
in the bluebird’s house
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
shed door squeaks
a wolf spider
on a rusty shovel
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
campfire pops—
slippery pine needles
beneath our feet
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
evening grave
shake of the backhoe
lifting earth
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
blacktop
strewn with beach sand
out past curfew
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
diagonal snow
Wall Street glitters
with afros and badges
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
haiku workshop
a ruby-throated hummingbird
peers through windows
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
the smell of tomato plants
I write to a friend
in New York’s prisons
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
bamboo shots—
my nephew
learns to read
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
sliver of a moon
between my teeth
coffee sugar
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
last house lights
beyond the third valley
summer sunset
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
pale ferns
across the lake
a powerboat surges
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
night drive
down out the mountains
winter mist
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
Christmas Eve
my wife dons
her nursing scrubs
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
the light
in the stone house
daughter’s smile
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
nose tickles
from the sprig of mint
in my daughter’s hand
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
daughter’s eleventh month
golden butterfly wafts
on spring breeze
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
26 weeks
smooth belly
in the sun
One Window’s Light: A Collection of Haiku
museumed slave manacle
the rain
still falling
The Nasher Museum of Art at Duke University: Haiku in the Gallery
coffee for one
finding her hair
in my hair
Frogpond 45.3
a
dew drop balanced on a lotus leaf
Frogpond 45.2
headlamp
above the coal seam
slate flakes
Frogpond 44.3
dove song
I unlace
muddy boots
Frogpond 44.2
early daffodils
deep in unkempt forest
her curls upon curls
Haiku North America Anthology 2019
filling raised beds red cedar sunset
The Unexpected Weight
practicing yugen—
most of the mountain
behind pines
The Unexpected Weight
guitar
strings
worn
smooth
our
lullaby
The Unexpected Weight
silent fields
in the rear view
a crow circles
Wild Plum
waxing moon—
first time he says
his name
The Heron’s Nest June 2021
first interview
what to wear
with Grandpa’s socks
The Heron’s Nest September 2020
weekend traffic
the road full
of crossing cows
Modern Haiku 53.1
fatherhood—
weathered brown hands
shield a candle
Modern Haiku 48:2
scrubbing sweet potatoes
soap and red clay swirl
in the sink
Walter Magazine. January 2022
hummingbird
inspects blue
wind chimes
Walter Magazine. January 2022
owl call
how slight
the pull of moon
Presence #73
lawn mowed
this wrinkled plum
dark and cold
Acorn Fall 2022
idling moving van—
I unhook
the bird feeder
Acorn Spring 2022
little fingers
learning to snap
butter beans
Acorn Fall 2021
winter solstice
she tries on
a lie
Acorn Spring 2021
summer sunset
silent fists
fill the sky
Acorn Fall 2020
snow day
finally
restringing my guitar
Acorn Spring 2020
southern grove
pelicans’ long white beaks—
klan hoods
Acorn Fall 2019
teddy bear
in a trash bin
outside the hospital
Kingfisher #6
bend twist crouch
from washer to dryer
scent of lemon
Kingfisher #5
moldy woodpile
a bright lick
of cardinal
Kingfisher #4
fingertip eyelash
a wish
for snow
Kingfisher #3
two centuries deep
through the yard
rusty barbed wire
Kingfisher #3
tear gas
trying to see
the sunrise
Kingfisher #2
voting day—
digging up stones
in the garden
Kingfisher #2
saving a grasshopper
mowing
over the next
Kingfisher #2
father of two
my hands full
of light
Kingfisher #1
Christmas
all my family home
except me
Kingfisher #1