Issue: "it's a secret place"
beneath this bower
I will weave you
a garland of words
all the ones
you used to love,
in days beyond recall
sepia photographs
become nothing
but dust in our hands
we sift the remains
of our ancestors
over the garden
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
Saturday, August 01, 2020
The Cherita, April 2020
Issue: "and still"
the sky aflush
with dawn
and possibility
sometimes
I don't know how
to be me
we dance across
alpine meadows
on sun-washed days
tiny butterflies
like ballerinas escaping
from our mouths
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
the sky aflush
with dawn
and possibility
sometimes
I don't know how
to be me
we dance across
alpine meadows
on sun-washed days
tiny butterflies
like ballerinas escaping
from our mouths
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
Turtle Light Press: 2019 Haiku Chapbook Contest Favorites E-book, 2020
Thank you to editor Rick Black for selecting the following haiku from my Third Honorable Mention chapbook, Songs Where We Least Expect Them:
weathered oars
we fold our worries
into the river
Acorn 41, Fall 2018
solar flares
a spill of buttercups
in the meadow
Acorn 35, Fall 2015
in cupped hands
the harvest moon rests
for a moment
1st Place, 2015 Autumn Moon Haiku Contest
Living Haiku Anthology, 2015
weathered oars
we fold our worries
into the river
Acorn 41, Fall 2018
solar flares
a spill of buttercups
in the meadow
Acorn 35, Fall 2015
in cupped hands
the harvest moon rests
for a moment
1st Place, 2015 Autumn Moon Haiku Contest
Living Haiku Anthology, 2015
The Cicada's Cry: A Micro-Zine of Haiku Poetry, Summer 2020
rusty sun
father's plough returns
to the earth
father's plough returns
to the earth
Stardust Haiku, Issue 43, July 2020
Honoured to have the following haiku chosen for the "In the Starlight" feature:
neonatal unit
the bleat of a mother
missing her lamb
neonatal unit
the bleat of a mother
missing her lamb
Ribbons, Volume 16, Number 2, Spring/Summer 2020
rain-soaked,
sphagnum moss holds
the imprints
of comings and goings
more wild than mine
sphagnum moss holds
the imprints
of comings and goings
more wild than mine
Tanka 2020: Poems from Today's World, Red Moon Press 2020
My thanks to editor-in-chief Alexia Rotella for choosing the following tanka:
taking a knee . . .
the black hollyhocks
in my garden
fall victim, one by one
to another killing frost
rain doves build
a nest on our balcony
we, too
are learning the art
of sheltering in place
this curse
should be named
corvid19
for the way it pecks
holes in our lungs
empty cathedral . . .
he sings for everyone
and for no one
this moment of healing
in a quarantined world
(for Andrea Bocelli)
(please note that I have corrected the errors in my tanka that appeared in the printed anthology)
taking a knee . . .
the black hollyhocks
in my garden
fall victim, one by one
to another killing frost
rain doves build
a nest on our balcony
we, too
are learning the art
of sheltering in place
this curse
should be named
corvid19
for the way it pecks
holes in our lungs
empty cathedral . . .
he sings for everyone
and for no one
this moment of healing
in a quarantined world
(for Andrea Bocelli)
(please note that I have corrected the errors in my tanka that appeared in the printed anthology)
Prune Juice Book of Senryu, Celebrating 10 Years: 2009 - 2019
Thrilled to be one of the 85 top contributors from Prune Juice Journal's first 29 issues, with work selected by past editors, Steve Hodge, Terri L. French, Alexis Rotella, Liam Wilkinson, and edited by Brent Goodman! My work has appeared in 17 issues since 2014.
transplanted . . .
a bleeding heart
in the surgeon's garden
#12 2014
frogspawn
the way you wriggle
out of lies
#19 2016
in the tracks
of a dog I wish were mine
snow sparkles
#20 2016
sheet lightning
my hands find the bones
of your hips
#22 2017
peeling paint
all the backstories
we don't know
#23 2017
last testament
we inherit the bulk
of her shame
#23 2017
bagpipers
just far enough away
to move me
#25 2018 (shortlisted for the 2018 H. Gene Murtha Senryu Contest)
transplanted . . .
a bleeding heart
in the surgeon's garden
#12 2014
frogspawn
the way you wriggle
out of lies
#19 2016
in the tracks
of a dog I wish were mine
snow sparkles
#20 2016
sheet lightning
my hands find the bones
of your hips
#22 2017
peeling paint
all the backstories
we don't know
#23 2017
last testament
we inherit the bulk
of her shame
#23 2017
bagpipers
just far enough away
to move me
#25 2018 (shortlisted for the 2018 H. Gene Murtha Senryu Contest)
Our Best Haiga: Black & White Haiga/Haisha, July 2020
Curated by Lavana Kray
July 6, 2020
Note: this haiga originally appeared in Ephemerae 1C, November 2018
July 13, 2020
Note: this tanka originally appeared in GUSTS 31, Spring/Summer 2020
July 19, 2020
Note: this tanka originally appeared in Blithe Spirit 30.1, February 2020
July 30, 2020
Note: this tanka received a Commendation in the Climate Change: The Burning Issue 2020 Tanka Contest (administered by Mandy's Pages)
NeverEnding Story, June 2020
Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu:
wheat fields
tousled by fingers
of wind
I tuck a strand of hair
behind your ear
Honourable Mention, 2018 Sanford Goldstein Int'l Tanka Contest
Chen-ou Liu's Comments: (excerpted from commentary by judges Jessica Malone Latham and Neal Whitman)
...This tanka brought out the romance of life expressed in gentle moments, and oh how gently we are brought into this scene. In this poem, love is in wind and wheat, love is expressed by tucking hair with hands. While we sat in the presence of this poem, it enabled each of us to feel this sacred moment of love, and to reflect on our symbols of affection and tenderness. For us, we ultimately fell into a moment of appreciation and quietude...
wheat fields
tousled by fingers
of wind
I tuck a strand of hair
behind your ear
Honourable Mention, 2018 Sanford Goldstein Int'l Tanka Contest
Chen-ou Liu's Comments: (excerpted from commentary by judges Jessica Malone Latham and Neal Whitman)
...This tanka brought out the romance of life expressed in gentle moments, and oh how gently we are brought into this scene. In this poem, love is in wind and wheat, love is expressed by tucking hair with hands. While we sat in the presence of this poem, it enabled each of us to feel this sacred moment of love, and to reflect on our symbols of affection and tenderness. For us, we ultimately fell into a moment of appreciation and quietude...
Moonbathing, Issue 22, Spring/Summer 2020
I wait for you . . .
nakedness perfumed
with almond oil
a veil of starlight
pinned over my hair
nakedness perfumed
with almond oil
a veil of starlight
pinned over my hair
Haiku 2020: 100 Notable Ku from 2019, Modern Haiku Press, 2020
Thrilled to be included in this anthology edited by Lee Gurga and Scott Metz!
summer fair
our dog retrieves
a lost boy
Mariposa 40, Spring/Summer 2019
summer fair
our dog retrieves
a lost boy
Mariposa 40, Spring/Summer 2019
Frameless Sky, Issue 12, June 2020
prairie meadow
we are still chasing
summer dreams
robin migration
the promises we make
to keep in touch
a deserted beach
strewn with seashells
and echoes
why do I always wait
for you to fill my sails
we are still chasing
summer dreams
robin migration
the promises we make
to keep in touch
a deserted beach
strewn with seashells
and echoes
why do I always wait
for you to fill my sails
#FemkuMag: An E-zine of Womxn's Haiku - Issue 25, June 2020
Guest Editor: Elizabeth Alford
inner peace
i offer it
to the world
quarantine
even the dust bunnies
are multiplying . . .
My thanks to Elizabeth for choosing the following vertical haiku for a "Femku Feature"!
languid
afternoon
we
change
places
with
shadows
inner peace
i offer it
to the world
quarantine
even the dust bunnies
are multiplying . . .
My thanks to Elizabeth for choosing the following vertical haiku for a "Femku Feature"!
languid
afternoon
we
change
places
with
shadows
Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 5, Issue 55, July 2020
Note: this haiga was originally published in Scryptic 2.2, August 2018
Australian Haiku Society, 2020
Winter Solstice 2020 AHS Haiga Kukai: Non-Seasonal Entry
shadow play
the yin and yang
inside my cup
Winter Solstice 2020 AHS Haiga Kukai: Seasonal Entry
snowy woodpile
a small spark begins
to sing
Note: These haiku were written in response to the photographic prompts by Ron Moss.
shadow play
the yin and yang
inside my cup
Winter Solstice 2020 AHS Haiga Kukai: Seasonal Entry
snowy woodpile
a small spark begins
to sing
Note: These haiku were written in response to the photographic prompts by Ron Moss.
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