My Fellow Poets Project

This was a project of voice. We’ve all done workshopping, submitted to journals, and the like. Much less commonly do we have the chance to receive feedback on a body of our work, or to give it. Our goal was to give this gift to each other, as we wrote, “to help the poet to see themselves.” This page presents several of the poets and their perspectives. For more about this project, see Matt Snyder’s introduction.

Jean Earnhardt

Jean is a retired freelance writer and PR specialist who lives in a stone house in the woods on ancestral land. She hosts Haiku Holiday, which gives her the opportunity to learn from great poets.

Participation in Matt’s project has encouraged me to write and share more haiku. It was fascinating to see how four other poets would interpret my haiku and each other’s. Having four written critiques gave me permanent feedback. The project also forced me to take the time to study and respond to poetry—searching memories, looking within, being amazed, daring.

crisp leaves underfoot
bare oaks above
I’m somewhere in between

Marina Klimova

Marina is a librarian. She draws inspiration from the seasonal rhythms of both North Carolina and her new home in Worcester, Massachusetts.

Being part of the My Fellow Poets project was both encouraging and inspiring. I deeply appreciated receiving insight from other haiku poets, especially their perspectives on the tone and essence of my work. The feedback I received described my voice as sensuous, tender, and gently evocative of special moments. I was also pleasantly surprised to hear that my poems have a “classic” feel—perhaps a natural outcome of my early immersion in the works of Bashō, Issa, Buson, and Shiki.

As I continue my haiku journey, I hope to experiment more with contrasting images and modern haiku syntax—aiming for clearer, more concise language and intentional imagery. Spending several months immersed in the haiku of my fellow poets broadened my perspective on the diverse ways we can capture life’s moments with distinct voices and imagery while remaining universally accessible. This exchange of poetry and perspectives was a deeply rewarding experience, and I look forward to further refining my craft with the insights I’ve gained.

A few haiku from the project:

spring breeze
he removes a catkin 
from my hair

long hair
shines in the water—
a mermaid?

volleyball court
honeysuckle wafts
between passes

in the garden
he notices the hummingbird
and my smile

Kate MacQueen

Kate MacQueen is a retired anthropologist and public health researcher. Since the mid-1990s she has written and published haiku, senryu, haibun, and tanka. She lives and writes along New Hope Creek in the North Carolina Piedmont.

What my fellow poets provided through this project was delightfully different from the binary judgment (yay, nay) we all experience when submitting poems, or the tallying up of “likes” when posting online, or the rapid-fire stylistic critiques that are far too common when sharing single ku in a group setting. It is rare to have the opportunity to share a small collection of poems that people read over time and respond to by focusing on what they hear a poet’s voice saying. That focused response helped me to think more clearly about the reader as someone I am in conversation with, and what I am trying to say as a poet.

Among the feedback on my poems, I was particularly struck by the patterns my fellow poets saw in my writing, how those patterns clicked for them, and how they perceived the patterns and tone shifting over time. I especially appreciated supportive comments about the intentional ambiguity in some of my poems, the deliberate pacing reflected in rhythm and word choice, and my efforts to evoke the passing of time within a moment.

falling out
a far shoreline spills
light into darkness

cloistered yet luminous her new moon body

bleak sky
another crow clenches
the bare tree branch

that treetop space
where infinity begins
winter stars

silken air
so many windows
in a spider’s house

As a reader of my fellow poets’ poems, the project format of 20 self-selected poems was perfect—long enough to hear the range in each poet’s voice and short enough to read and reread for depth over the course of a month. Putting my reactions into words on the page brought me back to each poet’s poems repeatedly in that timeframe, deepening the reading and my ability to hear the nuance of voice. As reader as well as writer, the project brought the conversational dimension of poetry into focus for me. Rather than simply reacting to a poem, it was an opportunity to pause, consider, and respond.

I felt heard, I enjoyed reading, and I learned much through this project.

Credits
“falling out,” Modern Haiku 2024
“cloistered,“ Heliosparrow 2024
“bleak sky,” Presence 2021
“that treetop space,” Presence 2021
“silken air,” The Heron’s Nest 2022

Susan Polizzotto

When not writing haiku, Susan can be found teaching and practicing shodõ (Japanese calligraphy) at home or in her studio at Art Exposure in Hampstead. In 2019, she was the Carl Sandburg Writer-in-Residence in Flat Rock. She has translated 130 haiku of Chiyo-ni, an Edo-period haiku master, into English and looks forward to finding a publisher.

Unlike any other workshop I’ve participated in, this project allowed me to reflect on one poet’s work for an extended period of time. That 3-4 week period felt like a gift to be savored. I enjoyed the opportunity to dwell on a small selection of haiku from a single voice, let that voice linger in my ear and conjure thoughts and impressions at a leisurely pace. As for the commentary I received from others about my haiku, it was revelatory. It delighted me to read their responses and discover new and diverse interpretations based on subjective readings by four haiku poets. In the optional online session in which we informally discussed my work, I really appreciated the suggestions about ways to approach the selection of haiku for a chapbook.

the old carp
dives and disappears 
only ripples

where everything slows
at a bend in the river 
a doe stops to drink

on night like this one
i replay your messages 
the cry of the loon

Credits
“where everything slows,” Seeds From a Birch Tree, 2020

Dave Russo

From a hollow log in the mountains of North Carolina, Dave manages websites for the North Carolina Haiku Society, The Haiku Foundation, Haikupedia, and contemporary haibun online. Other projects include davewrussopoet.com and The Coach Gaither Story.

Evaluating individual haiku in a workshop setting over the years is one thing; having the luxury of time to consider and comment on small collections of haiku by friends and colleagues is another. Both experiences are valuable, but the latter experience is rarer. Commenting on these collections renewed my enjoyment and affection for haiku. Receiving comments on my collection inspired me to return to these poems with renewed energy.

old beagle
asleep in the bluets
distant jets

Father’s Day
empty snap hooks
clang the flagpole

cicada buzz
in the black cat’s mouth
summer’s end

Credits
“old beagle,” 2018 Snapshot Calendar (runner up)
“Father’s Day,” New Resonance 5, 2007
“cicada buzz,” Modern Haiku xxix:3 Fall 1998

Matt Snyder

Gardener, runner, poet; NC by way of DC and IN. Matt writes in witness of the now, the momentary nature of haiku and writing practice helps him to be present, observant, and appreciative. More of his writing at Pittsboro Pine Press.

It was so enjoyable to get to know my fellow poets in this way! We had met before, but this level of collaboration was new. As was the concentrated attention on my work – a bit intimidating at first, in fact. I took a long time deciding which poems to share and included a brief introduction to give some personal and poetic context, closing with:

“The following haiku are shared in date order of when I wrote them. I covered the entire time during which I’ve written haiku, with some notion that this will give you a better sense of the arc of my writing.”

I appreciated that some of the poets reading my work responded directly to this idea of “the arc of my writing.” The response was encouraging. The first poem I ever wrote was simply,

feet on pavement     breathe

Which is perhaps a mantra as much as it is a poem, yet a starting point all the same. One poet who gave commentary on my work connected it to Thomas Merton’s essay “Day of a Stranger, which was a delightful thing to be introduced to and read.

One thing that consistently stood out to my reader-poets was my enjoyment of concrete poetry. I hadn’t really considered that. Everyone commented on one poem in particular, which I’ll share

the speed of tiny crabs
always just
                               out of sight

which is emblematic of my concrete poems, was enjoyable to read. I was gladdened to hear back that the concrete aspects of my work add meaning and enhance the images and sense experiences. Indeed, throughout the project, I received a wealth of kindness and perceptive commentary on other aspects of my work.

I like to think I was able to give this back, too. Each poet shared a unique voice and it was so fun to spend time with their work. I would print out the poems and carry them to sit by the fire, or outside on a trail, or wherever! I’m a very active reader; I like to write back, so the pages are quickly filled with marginalia, circles and connecting lines, counts by season, and more. For each poet, I came to see their distinct patterns, themes, and techniques, and it was a joy to articulate all of this back to them.

Richard Straw

Richard Straw is a retired technical report editor who is originally from the State of Ohio. He has been trying to write little poems for most of his life.

My participation in My Fellow Poets was entirely positive. It was fun diving headfirst into others’ poems and immersing myself in those new worlds and experiences. And it was equally exciting trying to briefly describe what I felt and saw in each batch of poems.

I especially enjoyed trying to see life from others’ perspectives. And I particularly loved occasionally being introduced to new reading experiences, such as the beautiful poetry of Chiyo-ni. (Thanks, Susan!)

Lastly, I am humbled by the care everyone took commenting on each others’ work. It was truly a community-building experience.

pocket radio
somewhere in the static
a ballgame

Credits
“pocket radio,” composed on 6/24/23; published on 6/28/23 in the The Haiku Foiundation series, Haiku Dialogue

Gideon Young

Gideon Young is a member of the Carolina African American Writers’ Collective, the Carrboro Poets Council, and the Orange County Arts Commission advisory board. He is a Fellow for A+ Schools of North Carolina, a stay-at-home dad, and the North Carolina Poetry Society’s 2025 & 2026 Gilbert-Chappell Distinguished Poet for the Eastern North Carolina Region. Discover more at gideonyoung.com.

My Fellow Poets is/was a collaborative project that highlighted some of the best aspects of our local haiku community—supportive communication, genuine helpfulness, unhurried timelines, and cooperative scholarship. The asynchronous nature of sitting with a poet’s curation for a whole month allowed for “a long steep” of a poet’s work in the reader’s mind. Subtle nuances of voice, depth, and theme emerged, providing opportunity for sharing such findings, as well as, appreciating the distinctive offering of each poet to the world. I am grateful to my fellow poets for their commentary on my work, building our North Carolina Haiku Society community up with shared enjoyment, encouragement, and thoughtful critique.

—Gideon Young. February 2025

Robert Letters

Robert Letters is a poet, songwriter, and educator who has published numerous peer-reviewed papers and nine volumes of poetry. The latest, Dry Grass, was released in June 2024. His album, Make Me Believe, was released in 2015 on Hondo Mesa Records. More of Robert’s work can be found at robertletters.com.

This project provided value that greatly exceeded my initial expectations. I hoped and expected to get feedback on “voice” in my work. But the thoughtful close readings by my fellow poets awakened me to dimensions I had not recognized in my poems, even though I had written them. More valuable than feedback on my own work was the opportunity to go deep into the work of four other poets, and to do this as part of a constructive community. The communal meditation on five distinct voices greatly expanded my understanding of the many possibilities inherent in short forms.

wisteria
climbing the maple
choking the moon

my red face
reflected
window of a passing bus

Credits
"wisteria," Choking the Moon, 2024