Tuesday, November 08, 2016
Skylark, Vol. 4, Number 2, Winter 2016
a fish
falls from the sky
what magic
when eagles dance
talon-to-talon
falls from the sky
what magic
when eagles dance
talon-to-talon
Modern Haiku, Vol. 47.3, Autumn 2016
snowed in
the rounded shoulders
of my mother
emergency flares
above us the crackle
of northern lights
the rounded shoulders
of my mother
emergency flares
above us the crackle
of northern lights
Hedgerow Poems, Number 95, November 2016
Resident Artist
These haiku, without visual art, originally appeared in Blithe Spirit in 2016.
Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, November 2016
on the tundra
caging a winter sky
caribou bones
3rd Place
2014 Hortensia Anderson Awards
United Haiku and Tanka Society
caging a winter sky
caribou bones
3rd Place
2014 Hortensia Anderson Awards
United Haiku and Tanka Society
Atlas Poetica, Number 26, October 2016
inscriptions
etched on roadside cliffs
permanent
reminders of all that is
impermanent
the pain
of this invisible
disability
today, I choose to wear
a quiet cloak of strength
oceans within
unbounded skies without
somewhere between
hollow feathers and flukes
so many ways to sing
muskmelons
and golden chanterelles
even their names
linger on the palate
of my motherless tongue
etched on roadside cliffs
permanent
reminders of all that is
impermanent
the pain
of this invisible
disability
today, I choose to wear
a quiet cloak of strength
oceans within
unbounded skies without
somewhere between
hollow feathers and flukes
so many ways to sing
muskmelons
and golden chanterelles
even their names
linger on the palate
of my motherless tongue
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.
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
sakura
in the garden centre
we choose her name
Honourable Mention
Sakura Award, Canada
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
poppies
on street corners
the wounds
we carry in our hearts
bleed into winter skies
solstice
the northern lights
shape-shift
over frozen prairie
I curl my hand into yours
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
poppies
on street corners
the wounds
we carry in our hearts
bleed into winter skies
solstice
the northern lights
shape-shift
over frozen prairie
I curl my hand into yours
Wild Plum, Issue 2:2, Fall & Winter 2016
caterpillar
on an oak leaf boat
i offer my hand
night fog
an owl's call fills
the spaces
on an oak leaf boat
i offer my hand
night fog
an owl's call fills
the spaces
The Bamboo Hut, Autumn 2016
believing
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
inheriting
her jewellery chest
I wonder
about the secrets
she had yet to tell
calluses
on my fingertips
musical scars
that bleed every time
I strum our duet
at the base
of this volcano
cinnabar
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
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
inheriting
her jewellery chest
I wonder
about the secrets
she had yet to tell
calluses
on my fingertips
musical scars
that bleed every time
I strum our duet
at the base
of this volcano
cinnabar
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
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).
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).
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