KOKAKO 31 , 2019, a journal of the New Zealand Poetry Society
first apricots
the baby’s soft breath
in my ear
~
moonflower
night after night
that same dream
~
barely a whisper
between daylight
and nightfall
when shadows
hide in darkness
2019 Haiku Society of America Members’ Anthology (A Moment’s Longing):
chasing the night—
a falling blossom
graces my tea
Prune Juice, Journal of Senryu, Kyoka, Haibun & Haiga
Issue #28, July 2019
powerless
neighbors mingle
after the storm
~
our gods
stand between us
total eclipse
Over the past few months, a lot of my work has been published, but I’ve been negligent in getting them posted. Breaking from my usual tradition of a separate post for each journal, I’m going to post all of them here in a single posting. Separate poems and journals are both divided by ***.
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
.
graveside—
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
***
The North Carolina Haiku Society hosts an all-day meeting on the last Saturday of each April. This year marked the 40th year of these days called “Haiku Holiday.” Each of the past 40 years has been hosted by one wonderful poet and woman, Jean Earnhardt
on Bolin Brook Farm, an old farmstead that has been in her family for 12 generations. Can you imagine opening up your home and garden annually to a large group of poets? Jean does so graciously and with a welcoming, inclusive attitude. Thank you, Jean!
“In honor of the 40th anniversary of Haiku Holiday, we read 40 haiku by current and past members of the North Carolina Haiku Society. Crystal Simone-Smith selected the poems and published them as a broadside.” (Dave Russo, the NCHS website Editor)
The Broadside is so beautiful, and it’s an honor to be part of this. My two haiku are listed below. My thanks to Crystal for selecting this to be included.
Haiku Holiday, NCHS, 2019
40 Years, 40 Haiku: A Broadside
Both haiku by Mary Kendall (c) 2019
As Memorial Day approaches, thoughts of all who have sacrificed for our country come to mind. There have been so many wars, so many skirmishes, so many of our service people posted to regions far away from their homeland. The work they do in times of war or in conflict is something that requires a level of courage I don’t have. Yet we can all pay them our deepest respects and honor those who have died as well as those who came home. They have made this country what it is.
This haiku was published in Frogpond 42.1, Winter 2019 (Haiku Society of North America)
Two haiku and one tanka in 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
All poems by Mary Kendall
