Translated into Italian by Lucia Fontana
a galaxy
on the fawn's back . . .
solstice eve
Thursday, March 08, 2018
Golden Triangle Haiku Contest 2018
Judges' Favourites:
"Spring in the City" Theme
the graffiti
of cherry blossoms . . .
night winds
rapid transit
the coming and going
of magnolias
Comments:
This year we received a record-breaking 1,675 entries from 45 countries and 34 states, and the District of Columbia...
"Spring in the City" Theme
the graffiti
of cherry blossoms . . .
night winds
rapid transit
the coming and going
of magnolias
Comments:
This year we received a record-breaking 1,675 entries from 45 countries and 34 states, and the District of Columbia...
The Cherita, Book 9, December 2017
Issue: "a visit across decades"
frost-laced leaves
in the morning light
we are all transparent
you cup your hand
around my heart,
pulling me inside
this urgency
between sharp-edged winds
you warn me of snow
but I have longed
for winter's wizardry . . .
come, let us light the fire
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
frost-laced leaves
in the morning light
we are all transparent
you cup your hand
around my heart,
pulling me inside
this urgency
between sharp-edged winds
you warn me of snow
but I have longed
for winter's wizardry . . .
come, let us light the fire
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
Old Song: The Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku 2017
winter wind
our laughter swallowed
whole
Presence 57, March 2017
our laughter swallowed
whole
Presence 57, March 2017
Red Lights, Vol. 14, Number 1, January 2018
sculpted
from alabaster . . .
these faces
with empty eyes,
so beautifully sad
soft thuds
of falling acorns
punctuate
our contented silence . . .
a new story unfolds
persimmons
peeled and hanging
out to dry . . .
autumn's harvest
shines brighter this year
Honoured to have my thoughts appear on the back cover:
Tanka poets complete the statement: When I read or write tanka . . .
. . . I am mindful that these small gifts have immeasurable value both to the giver and the recipient. Such wordsongs, whether received or bestowed, reflect the harmonic call and answer between reader and writer that is nothing short of magical.
from alabaster . . .
these faces
with empty eyes,
so beautifully sad
soft thuds
of falling acorns
punctuate
our contented silence . . .
a new story unfolds
persimmons
peeled and hanging
out to dry . . .
autumn's harvest
shines brighter this year
Honoured to have my thoughts appear on the back cover:
Tanka poets complete the statement: When I read or write tanka . . .
. . . I am mindful that these small gifts have immeasurable value both to the giver and the recipient. Such wordsongs, whether received or bestowed, reflect the harmonic call and answer between reader and writer that is nothing short of magical.
Otata, Issue 27, March 2018
damp underpass only the dark timpani of trains
stardrifts we slip into the depths of winter
setting sun blood red epaulettes on a blackbird's wings
sulphur springs we conjure the scent of petrichor
stardrifts we slip into the depths of winter
setting sun blood red epaulettes on a blackbird's wings
sulphur springs we conjure the scent of petrichor
NeverEnding Story, March 2018
Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu
fog weaving
between fence posts
a coyote's song
Honorable Mention
2016 Griffin-Farlow Haiku Award
Chen-ou Liu's comments:
Emotionally evocative and good use of the senses in this imagistic haiku.
fog weaving
between fence posts
a coyote's song
Honorable Mention
2016 Griffin-Farlow Haiku Award
Chen-ou Liu's comments:
Emotionally evocative and good use of the senses in this imagistic haiku.
Inner Voices - International Women's Haiku Festival, March 2018
sisterless . . .
another star falls
into the lake
African violets
the fuzzy details
of my past
Editor's Comments:
Taken together, these two poems convey volumes about women's experience. In "sisterless . . ." the special relationship that only sisters can share is viewed from the vantage point of its utter lack, and illustrated with the heartrending image of a star falling into permanent darkness in a lake.
"African violets" is a compassionate take on the parts of our lives that we may prefer to leave in the relative safety and comfort of the vagueness of the past. Likening the "fuzzy details" of the past to bold and beautiful (and, yes, fuzzy) African violets acknowledges that even the shadows of one's past are still, in their own unique ways, beautiful and brilliant.
another star falls
into the lake
African violets
the fuzzy details
of my past
Editor's Comments:
Taken together, these two poems convey volumes about women's experience. In "sisterless . . ." the special relationship that only sisters can share is viewed from the vantage point of its utter lack, and illustrated with the heartrending image of a star falling into permanent darkness in a lake.
"African violets" is a compassionate take on the parts of our lives that we may prefer to leave in the relative safety and comfort of the vagueness of the past. Likening the "fuzzy details" of the past to bold and beautiful (and, yes, fuzzy) African violets acknowledges that even the shadows of one's past are still, in their own unique ways, beautiful and brilliant.
—Jennifer Hambrick
Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 12, Number 1, February 2018
deadwood the end-stopped lines of sapsuckers
anvil clouds there was something I wanted to say
silence until . . .
the winter carols
of chickadees
anvil clouds there was something I wanted to say
silence until . . .
the winter carols
of chickadees
Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, March 2018
snowy field
the owls we thought
were stones
Honorable Mention
9th Irish Haiku Society International Haiku Competition, 2017
the owls we thought
were stones
Honorable Mention
9th Irish Haiku Society International Haiku Competition, 2017
Creatrix Poetry and Haiku Journal, Number 40, March 2018
campfire songs
darkness settles
on our shoulders
woodland trail
we inhale the breath
of old trees
heavy traffic
a queue of ladybugs
on a twig
darkness settles
on our shoulders
woodland trail
we inhale the breath
of old trees
heavy traffic
a queue of ladybugs
on a twig
Atlas Poetica, Number 31, January 2018
dancing solo
a birds's nest
bound with spidersilk . . .
nothing
to hold us together
after the young had flown
afterthoughts
blacker than our last
conversation . . .
the skeletal remains
of ancient forests
the stings
of a thousand wasps . . .
some betrayals
grow more venomous
with passing years
unsettled . . .
old arguments
sagging
in the cloudbursts
of my mind
leaves spin
against autumn skies . . .
I reflect
on all the times
you refused to dance
a birds's nest
bound with spidersilk . . .
nothing
to hold us together
after the young had flown
afterthoughts
blacker than our last
conversation . . .
the skeletal remains
of ancient forests
the stings
of a thousand wasps . . .
some betrayals
grow more venomous
with passing years
unsettled . . .
old arguments
sagging
in the cloudbursts
of my mind
leaves spin
against autumn skies . . .
I reflect
on all the times
you refused to dance
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