Presence Issue 61 (2018) / three haiku and one tanka:
1.
a shadow blocks the light unwanted touch
2.
washed up –
this broken shell
once sang the sea
3.
far above
old cotton fields –
migrating swans
4.
thin curls of wood
fly away
from the lathe –
his memory slips
away bit by bit
failed haiku: A Journal of English Senryu, Volume 3, Issue 32
one haiku:
chopping carrots –
with each decisive cut
I think of you
and two pieces of tankart:
Haiku and Tankart are by Mary Kendall, (c) 2018
Redlights, June 2018:
a newborn fawn
hidden in tall grasses,
with breath so soft
not even a dandelion
stirs
Photograph by Carmen Sterba Russell (used with her permission) (c) 2018
Redlights, June 2018:
when you were six
I longed to keep you
that age forever
once upon a time
I knew you so well
Dedicated to my son, Adam.
.
Published in Ribbons, Spring/Summer 2018: Volume 14, Number 2
the squeak
of the old swing . . .
only four when carefully taught
to keep that secret
to myself
This tanka was published in the Tanka Café of Ribbons
the little girl’s doll
marred by lipstick
scrawled on her face
. . . maybe this time
mother will notice
Published: Failed Haiku, a Journal of English Senryu, Volume 3, Issue 31,
July 2018
Guest editors: Lori A. Minor and Chase Gagnon
Primary editor: Michael Rehling
Note: I’d like to thank my dear friend, Christine M. Kalke for her permission to use her beautiful photograph that was taken in Scandinavia during one of her visits. The digital art work was done by me.
Moonbathing, A Journal of Women’s Tanka, Issue 18, Spring/Summer 2018
blue-black mussels
torn from harbor rocks
fill the worn rusty pail –
there was no looking back
when I left you
