Two (winning) haiga

I don’t enter many poetry contests, but I do love to see what entries win or place in contests/competitions I enjoy and admire. There is always so much to learn from other writers, of course, and it is always an inspiration to see what others produce.

One competition I really wanted to enter was the Fourth Annual Jane Reichhold Memorial Haiga  Competition, which is co-hosted by Failed Haiku and Prune Juice, two of the very finest Senryu journals around. It is divided into two groups: the Traditional (i.e., with original drawn art) Category (judged by Ron C. Moss) and the Photographic/Mixed Media Category (judged by Steve Hodge). My two entries were in the second category using photographs I had taken. One was left untouched and the other was embellished by some art programs I enjoy using on my iPad.

Imagine my surprise when I found out one of my entries won First Place in the Photographic/Mixed Media Category and the other one got an Honorable Mention! Yes, I was over the moon. It’s a double honor indeed. All the other entries selected in both categories were wonderful. I really can’t imagine how an editor selects one over another, but they do. My thanks to editor, Steve Hodge for selecting both of my haiga in this competition. I am deeply honored. Thanks also to Mike Rehling and Brent Goodman who edit Failed Haiku and Prune Juice.

I’ve included the comments of the editor because it’s always great to hear someone else’s interpretation and response to a poem.

 

 

 

 

The voice I’d lost . . . (tanka)

 

 

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

 

 

 

Moonbathing, a Journal of Women’s Tanka, Fall/Winter 2019.      
Edited by Pamela A. Babusci

Life

Two tanka were published in

 

Eucalypt Issue 27, 2019

 

 

miscarriage—
the very word
betrays
the promise
of hope

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

Dove photo by Merlune

 

 

 

Lemon oil rubbed on old wood . . .

 

Blithe Spirit 29:4, 2019 (two tanka)

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

Three Tanka in Gusts

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

 

∼ ∼ ∼

 

ripeness
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