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
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
Frogpond 2018 Volume 41 Number 2 (Haiku Society of America
the vastness
of a Condor’s Wings
Grand Canyon
Mary Kendall
Skylark Tanka Journal 6:1, Summer 2018:
Two tanka
old walking stick—
once it was
a branch
that stretched
to the sky
. . .
all those years spent
twisted in shame –
cultivating old world roses
but still ignoring
the thorns
A beautiful walking stick made in the traditional manner.
