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
Life
Category Archives: Poems of Sorrow
Black feathers . . . (two tanka)
Skylark, Tanka Journal 12,
Winter 2018 (6:2)
black feathers
scattered
under a bush—
the unspoken truth
gone forever
~
in an old book
a letter, ‘address unknown’
a million miles away
a new star is born,
another dies
pale lichens on stone . . . (two haiga)
Prune Juice, A Journal of Senryu, Kyoka, Haibun and Haiga,
Issue 26 – November 2018
~
photography by Mary Kendall
Highgate Cemetery, London
Photograph by Mary Kendall,
Blackwood Farm, Hillsborough, North Carolina
~
My deepest thanks to Steve Hodge, editor. This was his last issue as editor of Prune Juice. It has been a joy and a wonderful learning experience working with Steve as an editor.
Cover art by Chase Gagnon (c) 2018
Here is the link to the full issue of this amazing journal. It includes the amazing prize winners of the Jane Reichhold Memorial Haiga Competition for 2018 (edited by Steve Hodge and Michael Rehling), pdf: pj-26-rev
website: https://prunejuice.wordpress.com
innocence . ..
This tanka is dedicated it to all who have dealt with the trauma
of childhood sexual abuse.
he believed
himself omnipotent…
the innocence
of so many children
dissolved in a moment
Photograph by Circe Denyer
Eucalypt: A Tanka Journal,
Issue 25, 2018
It’s a great honor to have had this tanka published in Eucalypt. My thanks to editor, Julie Anne Thorndyke for selecting this particular poem.
.
Hospice window (a haiku)
My first time in this journal.
Haiku Canada Review, October 2018
hospice window
cherry blossoms
fade and fall
Only four . . . (two tanka)
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
A Poet in Time 