Eucalypt, Issue 40, May 2026

fishmongers

hawk their silvery wares

on the beach

small girls gather sequins

from a mermaid's dress

 

Eucalypt, Issue 39, December 2025

sunlight

butters the prairie hills

we gather

to give thanks before

our morning chores

Eucalypt, Issue 38, May 2025

a typewriter

left in our woodland . . .

who sat here

transcribing the tales

of wind, rain, and pine

Eucalypt, Issue 37, December 2024

this day

was made for mourning . . .

snowflakes

melt into the dark night

of a raven's wing

Eucalypt, Issue 36, May 2024

bull kelp grows

to maturity in one year . . .

pencil markings

of our heights still visible

against the doorframe

Honoured to have this tanka selected as joint winner of the Eucalypt Distinctive Scribblings Award, with an appraisal by Tim Dwyer:

"In this finely edited issue of Eucalypt, there are many excellent tanka. After careful reading, I narrowed my choice to three. Then I chose the tanka that most came back to my mind, and one in which I could not see anything to change. I chose the tanka by Debbie Strange.

The first line is strong, in terms of accent, rhythm and sound. As well as grounding with a vivid visual image, the kelp hints at sea scent and salty taste. The second line, with softer sounds, conveys a quiet authority, a trustworthy voice. The stated fact - growing to maturity in one year - resonates, and invites the reader to muse, enhanced by the skillful use of the ellipse. It is an unforced, light touch metaphor, that leads to a successful juxtaposition. the third line anchors the reader again with a clear image, visual and tactile with an appealing rhythm. The fourth line is an excellent example of Louise Gluck's approach - to invite not impose deep sentiment. It is a skillful and judicious use of the only personal pronoun or adjective in the tanka, and 'our' invites the reader in. The reader can participate to flesh out the image in the fifth line, perhaps picture a particular home for this doorframe, with pencil markings recalling many birthdays.

In the last line, I think the choice of the strong word 'against' rather than 'on' or 'upon' the doorframe, conveys both the tactile sense of pencil markings, but for this reader, it subtly conveys the conflict between tender reverie with the reality that those times have passed.

There is an excellent balance in this tanka of grounding (bull kelp, pencil marking, door frame) with a reflectiveness. The juxtaposition of bull kelp and pencil markings is original and stirring. The five lines work as a piece, inviting authentic tenderness with gentle loss, a lifefullness that lingers after the reading of the tanka done.

 

Eucalypt, Issue 35, December 2023

icicles fringe

every granite cliff

our sticks

tap the tinkling notes

of winter's celesta

Eucalypt, Issue 34, May 2023

the fire stoked

with dried sunflowers

on this wintry day,

we warm our hands

over summer's remains

Eucalypt, Issue 33, December 2022

letters tied

with wind-peeled ribbons

of birch bark . . .

I guess you must have

loved me after all

Eucalypt, Issue 32, May 2022

maples flame

across the hillside

how modest

our plumage against

the audacity of autumn

 

Eucalypt, Issue 31, December 2021

we watch

a wolf moon eating clouds

until the blood

of dawn spills across

our upturned faces

 

Eucalypt, Issue 30, May 2021

smatterings

of earthstar fungi unfold

along this path

I try to reimagine

the time-lapse of my life

my dye pot

bubbles with delight

I offer

the day's new colours

to you for naming

Eucalypt, Issue 29, December 2020

cradling

this guitar like a baby

I sing

lullabies for all those

with empty arms

 

Eucalypt, Issue 28, May 2020

the muzzle
of my horse, softer
than a sigh . . .
we tell each other
every little thing

Eucalypt, Issue 27, December 2019

fingers of barley
strum the prairie skies
in this heat
our bones become liquid
our minds become still

Eucalypt, Issue 26, May 2019

were we ever
as free as columbines
dancing across
swathes of meadow
in red and yellow skirts

Eucalypt, Issue 25, December 2018

there is solace
in everyday rituals . . .
water runs
like a river through
the canyon of my hands

Eucalypt, Issue 24, May 2018

rain chains
singing in our garden
calla lilies
open their pink mouths
to cup the hymn of spring

Eucalypt, Issue 23, December 2017

secrets rise
from murky depths
into light . . .
this is the way
of water lilies


the fragility
of glass sponge reefs . . .
after all this time,
we learn something new
about each other

Eucalypt, Issue 22, May 2017

in night winds

I hear your dulcimer

ring out . . .

the strings remember

how to say your name

Eucalypt E-news, May 2017

Wild Ones Challenge

*Note: the tanka and photo were published individually