2019 Published Poems

This part of my blog includes poems and places in which my work has been published. To make this readable, the newest poems are at the TOP of this page. In some cases there will be a link to a blog page if the poem is already on my blog. If not, then I will post the poem in this section. Your comments are always welcome. I love hearing responses from readers. It’s wonderful knowing people read my work and I enjoy learning about what a poem means to them.

(Entries are in reverse chronological order) 

Published in Modern Haiku, Winter-Spring, Issue 50:4, 2019

the bite of winter wind
      all this murmuring
but no words

Moonbathing, a Journal of Women’s Tanka, Fall/Winter 2019

it took sixty years
to find the voice I’d lost–
that day
blue dragonflies
alighted at water’s edge


Eucalypt Issue 27, 2019


the very word
the promise
of hope




persimmon sun
dips low and sets –
moonlight on the bed
where I was born
& where my father died

Prune Juice, Journal of Senryu, Kyoka, Haibun & Haiga
Issue 29, November 29



by their parameters
love triangle

Presence, Issue #65, 2019

cat’s tongue
the shallow rasp
of a scar


tree bark
kissed by wind—
out of the blue
a memory of you


Blithe Spirit 29:4, 2019

old quilt –
tiny fingers trace
the stars

autumn rain
erasing the poem
I just wrote

the familiar scent
of lemon oil rubbed
on old wood –
a new cat finds a place
in your empty chair

on the ground
a nest of hatchlings
fallen from a tree –
how well you always
hid your pain

Modern Haiku, issue 50:3, 2019


pruning roses
unable to forget her
scarred wrists

Ribbons Tanka Café Fall/Winter 2019


my seventy third
lies ahead . . .
five, ten, maybe fifteen left
but who is it
doing the counting?

The Heron’s Nest, Volume XXI, Number 3: September 2019

the soft clay begins
to harden

Three tanka were published in the last issue of
Gusts, Contemporary Tanka  No. 30, Fall/Winter 2019

as Geminids flit by
in the inky darkness
I pull your jacket tight
around myself
. . . all I have left

bears its own burden . . .
fragrant peaches
dangle low
bruises   a breath   away

in old growth grass
a newborn fawn
wobbles on spindly legs –
a sure reminder
how brief a season is

Prune Juice, Journal of Senryu, Kyoka, Haibun & Haiga
Issue #28, July 2019


neighbors mingle
after the storm


our gods
stand between us
total eclipse


failed haikuA Journal of English Senryu

Volume 4, Issue 43

July 2019



abandoned nest

four blue eggs

but no answers


vagrant fog

a distant train

slows the night

Redlights, Volume 15, No. 2, June 2019


a day will come

when we are the faces

in old picture albums

and no one left

to give us names

babcia’s borscht recipe

in faded black ink—

can you smell the beets

bubble and hear her

hum along

Ribbons Spring/Summer 2019: Volume 15, No. 2


PET scan . . .

all the dogs & cats

I ever knew & loved

romp in the tunnel

where I lie in stillness

Ribbons Spring/Summer 2019: Volume 15, No. 2

Tanka Café:  Theme: What Matters [to You]

they say time
moves faster as we age
yet here I am
stealing an hour
to listen to the birds

cattails: The Official Journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society, April 2019 Issue


late winter

the garden’s breath

shifts once more


one crow

and a clutch of chickadees

at the birdfeeder —

that simple need

to fit in someplace


Frogpond 42.2 * 2019



white blossoms

lighten the darkness


Blithe Spirit 29.2, 2019


evening meditation

fireflies flit here

& there

                           & there


sacred sites

finding myself praying

in another language



the soft rustle

of quivering aspen leaves

over and over

I replay the words

I might have said



a feeling of you

standing behind me …

when I turn around,

only shadow

only silence




Moonbathing 20 Spring/Summer 2019


sea glass

    a distant story

        told in waves

            I long

                to read




The Heron’s Nest, Volume XXI, Number 2: June 2019


a single brass button—
I try to remember
his voice


Eucalypt  Issue 26,  2019


without warning

a leaf rises in the wind

then tumbles—

our need for forgiveness

so unexpected, too


(Eucalypt, The Distinctive Scribblings Awards)




Gusts, Contemporary Tanka  No. 29, Spring/Summer 2019


faint notes

of a harpsichord

playing Bach –

why is it you always wait

for one wrong note


you pour a second cup

of pale moon tea

in a teashop in Prague

. . . I wonder what story

the leaves might tell

walking alone

past the tide’s own

push and pull –

I turn to see my footprints

wash away

Kokako 30, 2019


abbey ruins

voices of evensong

     nowhere                 everywhere


old burying ground

so many grave markers

buried too


in the coffee shop

a glimpse of someone

who looks just like you—

I quickly check my face

in a mirror


dark storm clouds

dissolve in sunlight

and shift again—

your changing moods

just as quick


Blithe Spirit 29.1, 2019

ground fog
even birdsong
is invisible


wood’s edge –
that inescapable pull
of darkness

starlight on
winter branches—
those nagging thoughts
that seem to come
from nowhere


Frogpond 42.1 Winter 2019


war memorial

blue dragonflies

loop in tandem


Red Lights, Volume 15, No. 1, January 2019


racing down
the unknown slalom
course of memory
unaware how faulty
our footing might be

a canopy of leaves
obscures the view
. . . why is it I never
see the good
in him?


Haiku Holiday, NCHS, 2019

“40 Years, 40 Haiku”



more and more invisible

as I grow old


our country’s story

ever evolving

. . . fallen blossoms




Modern Haiku, Volume 50.1, Winter-Spring 2019

that look . . .
a skim coat of ice
in the bird bath

Vines #3, hedgerow, February 2019



Unearthing Beauty

    A Rengay by Mary Kendall (USA) & Kate MacQueen(USA)

poet’s laurel

slowly growing

word by word


violets bloom

in the old oak’s shade


small strands of wool        

and garden string

tucked in a nest


lightly gloved fingers

free the hellebores

from sodden leaves


unearthing beauty

where others see darkness



and frog song

up from the gully


Prune Juice, Journal of Senryu, Kyoka, Haibun & Haiga,
Issue 27, March 2019



voices in my mind . . .

a flurry of snowflakes

erases the world


town by town

field by field

pasture by pasture

my train of thought

outpaces the clouds