Tuesday, October 18, 2016

KYSO Flash, Issue 6, Fall 2016

Coming Undone

She always wore the same sweater. I've kept it all these years, and I wear it whenever my memories of her start to fade. Today, the last button came off, and I put it in the sweater's frayed pocket for safekeeping. When it slipped through a hole, and dropped between the floorboards, I finally realized that she was never coming home.

heirloom quilt
sparrow prints embossed
on new snow

Second Publisher's Choice Award, KYSO Flash HTP Writing Challenge

Commentary by KF Editors:

This little button of a haibun reminds us of the set-up in "The Last Leaf" by O. Henry, in which the consumptive young woman thinks that she'll die when the last leaf falls outside her window. "Coming Undone" avoids any clever plot twists and aims directly at the heart in a spare and effective way.

Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival, Haiku Invitational, 2016

in the garden centre
we choose her name

Honourable Mention
Sakura Award, Canada

Inkling Press - More Grows in a Crooked Row: Tanka Conversations of Angela Leuck, 2016

More Grows in a Crooked Row is comprised of responsive tanka conversations between Angela Leuck and 15 Canadian poets.

My contribution to a tanka conversation with Angela Leuck follows:

Broken Resolutions

New Year's morn
the air hangs heavy
with ice fog
and the acrid smoke
of broken resolutions

on groundhog day
we speak of shadows
etched on snow
forgetting how we lengthen
into filaments of light

while a snow lion
roars outside our door
you tame me
with the fire in your hands
until I tremble like a lamb

a robin's trill
fades into evening
how green
the scent of longing
after the first rain

I still wear
her frayed sweater
on Mother's Day—
are we ever resigned
to being orphaned?

a perigee moon
the polished stone
at my breast
waxing and waning
with every breath

our paddles
stirring twilight
into the lake
after all these years
the stars in our eyes

four sisters
shared a bedroom
on the farm
now we harvest memories
from summer fallow fields

at the hospice
another little bird
hits the window
we'll always wonder
what father tried to say

maple leaves
and geese take flight
I, too, am restless
as autumn writes
the poetry of storms

on street corners
the wounds
we carry in our hearts
bleed into winter skies

the northern lights
over frozen prairie
I curl my hand into yours

VerseWrights, 2016

Wild Plum, Issue 2:2, Fall & Winter 2016

on an oak leaf boat
i offer my hand

night fog
an owl's call fills
the spaces

Tinywords, Issue 16.2, September 2016

haiku only published in Kernelsonline, Summer 2013

The Bamboo Hut, Autumn 2016

you were my bellwether
I followed
every footstep sinking
deeper into the mire

where are you
my fair-weather friend
have you left
for sunnier climes
grown weary of my rain

at the first
slow swell of violins
these tears
that seep into my mouth
and quench my thirst

her jewellery chest
I wonder
about the secrets
she had yet to tell

on my fingertips
musical scars
that bleed every time
I strum our duet

at the base
of this volcano
our pilgrim cheeks blaze
with revelation

don't sell me
anti-ageing creams
the lines
upon this canvas
my life's masterstrokes

over time
every mountain
sinks back
into the ocean
as must we all

Presence, Number 56, October 2016

eclipse an otter dives through a ring of fire

hinterland the call and answer of wolves and moon

fallen leaves
a porcupine nibbles
the last apple

a twinkle
in the pumpkin's eye
harvest moon

Shortlisted for Best-of-Issue Award in Presence 55:

coastal trail a rainbow appears in the orca's breath

NeverEnding Story, September 2016

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu

in cupped hands
the harvest moon rests
for a moment

First Place, Bangor Group 2015 Autumn Moon Haiku Contest

Chen-ou Liu's comments:

A visually stunning moment is keenly captured in Debbie's "ichibutsu shitate" (one-image/object/topic haiku).

NeverEnding Story, August 2016

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu

migrating geese
writing cursive letters
across the sky
I finally read between
the white of your lies

Runner-up, British Haiku Society Tanka Awards, 2014-2015

Chen-ou Liu's comments:

The juxtaposition between the cyclic nature and temporal precision of bird migration and the fluctuating nature of human relationships makes this poem emotionally effective.

A fresh take on relationship tanka.

Kokako, Number 25, September 2016

every garden pot
a ptarmigan

crane silhouettes
i practice the kanji
for my name

our bodies
no more than stardust
we fall
from constellations
and for a moment, shine

Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 10, Number 2, October 2016

runaway (t)rain all the world a blur

orphaned cubs
mammatus clouds
after the storm

Gusts, Number 24, Fall/Winter 2016

the rushes that held nests
of marsh wrens
I close my weary eyes
and turn into a song

curls of clouds
become passerines
each autumn
the low-angled light
invites me to follow

along the arroyo
my every bone thirsty
for one last taste of you

Creatrix Poetry and Haiku Journal, Number 34, September 2016

shelf clouds
a scare crow leans
against wind

Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Issue 10, October 2016

Honoured to have this haiga on the cover!

Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Issue 9, September 2016

Brass Bell, October 2016

the bleached husk
of a small crayfish . . .
summer wanes

Brass Bell, September 2016

on yellowed recipes
she is here, still

Blithe Spirit, Vol. 26, Number 3, September 2016

the scent of night settles
in your hair

ocean waves
advance then retreat
shy lovers
teaching the shore how
to make the stones sing

odds and ends
flutter from clothes lines
lift this mundane life
into the divine

Asahi Haikuist Network, September 2016

stone angels
among the ruins
a flash of stars

blues festival
stray dogs howling
at streetlights

Akitsu Quarterly, Fall 2016

a smudge
on the azure sky
day moon

orange lichen
glacial rocks bloom
with age

across the lowlands
muffled bells