Haiku Canada Review, Volume 19, Number 1, February 2025

badlands

I step on the tail

of a dinosaur

 

Haiku Canada Review, Volume 18, Number 2, October 2024

pasturelandbullthistles

the dances

we used to know . . .

waggling bees

Haiku Canada Review, Volume 18, Number 1, February 2024

I collect

the broken ones . . .

ditch bottles

Haiku Canada Review, Volume 17, Number 2, October 2023

farmer's tan

the white stripe

on a black swan's bill

the hands

that shaped our family

at rest now

in this prairie meadow

alive with bumblebees

harlequin ducks

ride swelling waves

I wait

to catch a glimpse

of the real you

Haiku Canada Review, Volume 17, Number 1, February 2023

cloud-shaped sometimes i am

amber alert bees begin fanning their nest

witching stick

we discover something

invisible

Haiku Canada Review, Volume 16, Number 2, October 2022

sundogdayafternoon

wintry mornings . . .

we seek out sunbeams

stretching

like contented cats,

purring with delight

Haiku Canada Review, Volume 16, Number 1, February 2022

heir(b)looms

childhood friends

felled like hapless trees

in old-growth forests

we prostrate ourselves

before the powers that be

Haiku Canada Review, Volume 15, Number 2, October 2021

(ir)rational thinking you might even be right

clear conscience

a loon's call drifts

into morning

This issue includes a lovely review by Pearl Pirie of Prairie Interludes. It may be accessed via the book title's tab of this blog.

My thanks to Maxianne Berger for mentioning my work in her review of Window Seats: A Contemporary Anthology of Cat Haiku & Senryu, edited by Stanford M. Forrester:

There are cats who have no homes, and cats who do.

pussy willows

the swollen bellies

of feral cats

(note: this haiku was originally published in Acorn 32, Spring 2014)

 

Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 15, Number 1, February 2021

mittensmitten

idle tractor

puddles of sunset

in every furrow

Note: This issue includes a lovely review by Sandra Stephenson of The Language of Loss: Haiku & Tanka Conversations. It may be accessed via the book title's tab of this blog.

Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 14, Number 2, October 2020

(w)age equity

minnows dart

between our fingers . . .

summer fling

I stand

beneath a canopy

of white,

the span of my hands

against an aspen's heart

 

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

Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 13, Number 2, October 2019

blackout poetry all my little strokes


looking away
from our campfire
for a moment
we see that the stars
have been here all along

The Haiku Foundation, Per Diem, June 2019

Selected by Dave Read for the theme of "Parents and Their Kids": June 3, 2019


the droop
of mother's smile
mudslide

Haiku Canada Review, October 2017

Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 13, Number 1, February 2019

washboard road every now and again not


the healing balm
of new-fallen snow . . .
we crawl
into our quinzhee
and light a candle

Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 12, Number 2, October 2018

forestbathingbeauty

Honoured to be the featured artist for this issue!

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

Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 11, Number 2, October 2017

Front Cover - (Watercolour Avocet)

Back Cover

early snow

pumpkins hide

their light

***********************************************************************************

the droop

of mother's smile

mudslide

rooibos

we can almost taste

the sunset

haikutensilences

eclipsenso

Frogpond, Vol. 40.2, Spring/Summer 2017

A kind mention of my work in the review of Dust Devils by Randy Brooks:


lilac buds
no one notices
the bruises


Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 10, Number 1, February 2016

Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 11, Number 1, February 2017

seventeen coming out of her shell cicada


a butterfly wing beneath my boot autumn


in the church
of Leonard Cohen
we softened
into a state of grace
when he knelt to sing


Comment by Claudia Radmore (Haiku Canada Division Co-ordinator) in Feb. 16, 2017 blog post:

a butterfly wing beneath my boot autumn

tugs at me. A boot is crushing the most delicate of creatures, those brilliant dusty wings, or perhaps just a torn off wing. It calls into question why a butterfly is on the ground, the heavy boot that possibly means a hike, a good thing in autumn air, but oh, doesn't it bring to mind innocents in all parts of the world that are under the 'boot'. This poem comes very close these days as our neighbours to the south are losing healthcare, and the right to live their own lifestyle, when everything good is endangered, even our earth. It is the refugees who are walking to Canada through the snow. Enough said, the poem says it all, and much more if you let it seep into your self.

Thank you, Claudia!

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

runaway (t)rain all the world a blur


orphaned cubs
mammatus clouds
after the storm