the slow hiss
and sudden pop
of a pinecone in fire—
admitting the mistake
is a first step
*
had you lived
we’d almost be twins,
two sisters
so close in time
we nearly touched
*
this urge
to turn and walk away
chokecherry
Mary Kendall (c) 2020
Kokako 32, 2020, a journal of the New Zealand Poetry Society
My thanks to the editors of Kokako for publishing all three poems.
Synesthesia in haiku ~
This haiku was recently published in Hedgerow, a journal of small poems ~ #130, Winter 2020
spring…
hearing green
and only green
Haru = Spring
Prune Juice, Journal of Senryu, Kyoka, Haibun & Haiga
Issue #30, March 2020
both parents
dead at sixty one –
imagine my surprise
the day I turned
sixty-two
Published in Modern Haiku, Winter-Spring, Issue 50:4, 2019
the bite of winter wind
all this murmuring
but no words
Redlights, Volume 16, No. 1, January 2020
a gradual loss
of peripheral vision
leaves it all unclear
why is it that the brain
still searches for the edge
~
underlined passages
in a library book –
I idle away an hour
puzzling why a reader
chose those words
The Heron’s Nest
Volume XXII, Number 1: March 2020
snow melt
a trickle of caribou
comes to an end
