Sunday, November 03, 2019

Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival, Haiku Invitational, 2019

sakura petals
floating in the bath
we make amends

Honourable Mention
Sakura Award, Canada

Wales Haiku Journal, Autumn 2019

mom's last smile hangs
in the air

Cattails, October 2019

family photos . . .
Mom sweeps back
my mop of hair

crown shyness
the space we make
for each other

I measure
my horse at his withers . . .
these hands
know how to gentle
everything but you

a charm
of rufous hummingbirds
sipping nectar
wings blur the edges
between darkness and light

Tanka Editor's Choice

What stands out again is this poet's unusual use of language in her tanka. Instead of writing 'a flock' of rufous hummingbirds, Debbie penned 'a charm'. And charming they are, for who has not been spellbound by these birds suspended mid-air, wings a-blur as they sink their beaks into the center of blooms, their reddish-brown countenance glowing. While the simplest of language works best in tanka and affords more dreaming room, so too creative use of words that affords multiple understanding, a poetice device Debbie has mastered in many a tanka.

This tanka is a 'charm' in itself.

—Kathy Kituai

The Cherita, August 2019

Issue: "coming home late"

fog settles

nothing looks
the same

without you,
I do not recognize

how we loved

in the snow

my footprints
seem lonely now


an exhalation
of blackbirds

rising and falling,
your voice comes
back to me

I pull

my memories
behind me

this train
hurtling through a life
that was never mine

A Cherita Lighthouse Award

we are tethered

to this earth
and to each other

our veins,
blue rhizomes searching
for light in the dark

A Cherita Lighthouse Award


in this blanket
of stars

the Milky Way
swirls above us
like a song

A Cherita Lighthouse Award

Stardust Haiku, Issue 34, October 2019

morning prayers . . .
autumn leaves stitched
with dew

Poetry Northern Ireland - Panning for Poems, Issue 12, Autumn 2019

a blackened
volcanic tusk pokes
between clouds . . .
we unlace our tired boots,
and cool our feet in snow

Otata, Issue 47, November 2019

interrupted by snowy owls this winter darkness

frozen puddle the open eye at its centre

the barn that used to be red dust devil