leaf decay
deep shadows lit
by ladybugs
Friday, April 05, 2019
Kokako, Number 30, April 2019
savannah a dazzle of zebras kicking up moondust
limestone lake
sunlight changes the way
we look at things
vernal equinox . . .
rare snow snakes begin
to slither
from every branch until
only wet shadows remain
limestone lake
sunlight changes the way
we look at things
vernal equinox . . .
rare snow snakes begin
to slither
from every branch until
only wet shadows remain
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
the healing balm
of new-fallen snow . . .
we crawl
into our quinzhee
and light a candle
Golden Triangle Haiku Contest 2019
Judges' Favourites:
wind gusts
the sudden chimes
of flag poles
Comments: This year we received nearly 2,000 entries from 50 countries and 41 states, and the District of Columbia...
wind gusts
the sudden chimes
of flag poles
Comments: This year we received nearly 2,000 entries from 50 countries and 41 states, and the District of Columbia...
Frogpond, Vol. 42.1, Winter 2019
wind-spun petals again my thoughts lead nowhere
steep gorge . . .
our voices spill across
the ages
steep gorge . . .
our voices spill across
the ages
#FemkuMag: An E-Zine of Women's Haiku - Issue 10, March 2019
labyrinth i walk into and out of myself
3rd Place Senryu, 2018 San Francisco International Competition
circles of lichen
I thought we would have
more time
3rd Place, 2018 Kaji Aso Studio Haiku Contest
split chrysalis
all the ways we learn
to become small
Museum of Haiku Literature Award, Blithe Spirit 26.1, 2016
transience . . .
petal by petal
we let go
Winner, 2017 Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Invitational
come quickly
the dandelion clocks
are running out of time
if we can make
a few more wishes,
father might come home
HM, 2018 Frameless Sky Mad About Cherita Contest
the growth rings
of otoliths and trees . . .
when did she
become smaller
than her daughters
2nd Place, 2017 United Haiku and Tanka Society Fleeting Words Tanka Contest
tracks of birds
meander through snow . . .
the surgeon
marks her left breast
with a cross
1st Place, 2016 British Haiku Society Tanka Awards
3rd Place Senryu, 2018 San Francisco International Competition
circles of lichen
I thought we would have
more time
3rd Place, 2018 Kaji Aso Studio Haiku Contest
split chrysalis
all the ways we learn
to become small
Museum of Haiku Literature Award, Blithe Spirit 26.1, 2016
transience . . .
petal by petal
we let go
Winner, 2017 Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Invitational
come quickly
the dandelion clocks
are running out of time
if we can make
a few more wishes,
father might come home
HM, 2018 Frameless Sky Mad About Cherita Contest
the growth rings
of otoliths and trees . . .
when did she
become smaller
than her daughters
2nd Place, 2017 United Haiku and Tanka Society Fleeting Words Tanka Contest
tracks of birds
meander through snow . . .
the surgeon
marks her left breast
with a cross
1st Place, 2016 British Haiku Society Tanka Awards
#FemkuMag: An E-Zine of Women's Haiku - Issue 9, February 2019
ultrasound butterflies instead of a baby
organ
donation
living
someone
else's
best
life
a new year
how long before I stop
missing you
organ
donation
living
someone
else's
best
life
a new year
how long before I stop
missing you
Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 4, Issue 40, April 2019
Retrospective Issue
Thank you to Mike Rehling, the editor, for selecting this hagia and for his lovely comments below:
Debbie is a master at haiga. I don't know what the diagnosis is she is referring to, or if the poet is the one who has received it, but I do believe that dragonfly is indeed lucky for them. As least I want to believe it. The hints of color in the dragonfly may just be the poet's way of conveying her own feelings about the situation and imbuing the dragonfly with her own hope.
Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, February 2019
Featured Artist: February 9, 2019
Note: tanka first published by GUSTS 27, Spring/Summer 2018
Creatrix Poetry and Haiku Journal, Number 44, March 2019
windblown seeds
refugees try to cross
the border
neon lights
a cardboard roof
sags with snow
refugees try to cross
the border
neon lights
a cardboard roof
sags with snow
Blithe Spirit, Vol. 29, Number 1, February 2019
frost-silvered
the withered garden
blooms with light
moonsongs
we drive deep
into the night
a waterfall
frozen in time . . .
I brush
mother's hair until
she falls asleep
thirty-five
types of snowflakes . . .
no one told me
that they would
all taste the same
Note: this issue also contains my selections and commentary for the Museum of Haiku Literature Award
the withered garden
blooms with light
moonsongs
we drive deep
into the night
a waterfall
frozen in time . . .
I brush
mother's hair until
she falls asleep
thirty-five
types of snowflakes . . .
no one told me
that they would
all taste the same
Note: this issue also contains my selections and commentary for the Museum of Haiku Literature Award
Australian Haiku Society, 2019
Honoured to say that these haiku were included in the PDF booklet featuring selected poems from the prompt!
backyard campout . . .
we fall asleep counting
the ghosts of stars
the flash
of a stranger's smile . . .
sun shower
office tower . . .
a peregrine nests outside
my window
Atlas Poetica, Number 36, February 2019
wintertide
glissading down
steep mountainsides . . .
we are horses
with our snowy tails
streaming in the wind
every year
winter casts its spell . . .
like children,
we are bewitched anew
by the signature of snow
the length of night
yet again,
sleep eludes me . . .
an owl and I
ponder the eternal
question of identity
insomnia . . .
mice at play
inside
the thin walls
of my dreams
girlhood
we brew tea
from the dark leaves
of cat's whiskers
but first, you tickle me
with their stamens
we chase
each other across
cloud shadows,
nothing under our feet
but this prairie sky
we once played
in this tangled garden,
enchanted
by the quiet fireworks
of bergamot and butterflies
glissading down
steep mountainsides . . .
we are horses
with our snowy tails
streaming in the wind
every year
winter casts its spell . . .
like children,
we are bewitched anew
by the signature of snow
the length of night
yet again,
sleep eludes me . . .
an owl and I
ponder the eternal
question of identity
insomnia . . .
mice at play
inside
the thin walls
of my dreams
girlhood
we brew tea
from the dark leaves
of cat's whiskers
but first, you tickle me
with their stamens
we chase
each other across
cloud shadows,
nothing under our feet
but this prairie sky
we once played
in this tangled garden,
enchanted
by the quiet fireworks
of bergamot and butterflies
The Mamba, Issue 7 - Africa Haiku Network, March 2019
the peacock rattles
its tailfeathers
the length
of a giraffe's tongue . . .
acacia thorns
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