Nicholas Klacsanzky runs the blog Haiku Commentary and has won a few awards for his haiku. He lives in Burien, Washington and works as a teacher. 

Palms

I still feel a breeze
emanating from my palms.
With a broken ocean inside me 
archaic habitats have shifted with the rush
of reconnaissance for a trail
to shed the letters of my name
with a pliant tongue
one mention to the next.  

Fresh Snow

Let me dream of faces
not showing our history. My mistakes null
like fresh snow. The evening bright
and the paths given to me at birth
led back to frozen grasses.
Fading light will filter in our room
where years of disquiet accumulated
into a misshapen mouth
that cannot sound my name.

Untitled

burdock burrs . . .
father beats good grades
into me