Sunday, March 01, 2020

The Heron's Nest, Vol. 22, Number 1, March 2020

spawning capelin the silver curl of a wave

Stardust Haiku, Issue 38, February 2020

bus window fog
the heart someone
left behind

Wind Flowers: The Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku, 2019

limestone lake
sunlight changes the way
we look at things


Kokako, Number 30, April 2019

Prune Juice, Issue 30, March 2020




Our Best Haiga: Black & White Haiga/Haisha, February 2020

Curated by Lavana Kray


February 1, 2020


Note: this tanka sequence originally appeared in Ephemerae, Volume 1A, April 2018


February 8, 2020


Note: this haiga originally appeared in Ephemerae, Volume 1A, April 2018


February 18, 2020


Note: this haiga originally appeared in Scryptic, Issue 2.2, August 2018


February 25, 2020


Note: this haiku originally appeared in Seashores, Volume 3, November 2019




#FemkuMag: An E-zine of Womxn's Haiku - Issue 21, February 2020

Guest Editor: Susan Burch


he says he'll see me in hell(ebore)


day-old buns
the crusty tone
of your voice


my patience wearing thin my hair

NeverEnding Story, February 2020

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu:


dried curls
of gray reindeer moss
crunch softly
underneath our boots . . .
no other sound, but breath

1st Place (tie), 2016 San Francisco International Competition


Chen-ou Liu's Comments: (excerpted from commentary by judge Marilyn Shoemaker Hazelton)


...we stand at the delicate edge of winter where air is crisper, and "reindeer moss" whispers beneath our feet. The color of this tundra is muted. Perhaps the light is also. In response to small, mysterious sounds framed by quiet, the breaths of those within the poem startle and deepen. And we have an opportunity to appreciate what we usually take for granted...



Modern Haiku, Vol. 51.1, Winter-Spring 2020

cat-ice
our circle of old friends
grows smaller

Jalmurra, February 2020

Featured Artist: February 10, 2020



Note: this haiku received 1st Place in the 2018 Sharpening the Green Pencil Contest



Halibut, February 2020

This is an original double-exposed photograph which incorporates a found tanka from Beside the Waterfall by Mary Oliver:




Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 14, Number 1, February 2020

a flurry
of wings strumming
wintry air . . .
you urge me to leave
while I still can

Frogpond, Vol. 43, Number 1, Winter 2020

daydream a pelican dives into it


#FemkuMag: An E-zine of Womxn's Haiku - Issue 20, January 2020

melancholia . . .
a spider shows me how
to mend my world


poverty we hope the new year will be brighter


black
ice
our
god
children
still
angels

Red Lights, Vol. 16, Number 1, January 2020

a red star pinned
to the breast of night . . .
you've been gone
more than a lifetime,
yet your light still shines


the colour of complacency


a pale child
with flaxen hair warns
us of danger
why are so many
too blind to listen

prayers offered
to the rising sun
a rainbow
of saris flecked
with toxic foam

our world
is clutching onto life
but only just
a spider monkey swings
above the blood-red fire

another forest
takes its last breath
a miasma
of black despair
settles in my lungs

I soothe
my weary spirit
in a river
of blue-eyed grasses
how did we come to this

Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 5, Issue 51, March 2020

Honoured to have the following haiga chosen as this month's cover, with thanks to editor, Mike Rehling!




Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, March 2020

soft rime
a chickadee's song
becomes visible

Honourable Mention
Irish Haiku Society International Competition, 2019

Bottle Rockets, Vol. 21, Number 2 (or #42), February 2020

frostbite
a lynx shakes stars
off its paws

The Mamba, Issue 9 - Africa Haiku Network, March 2020

estrangement . . .
even army ants know how
to build bridges