Here’s the second tanka published in
Gusts no. 32, Fall/Winter 2020
pale pink petals
scattered on the desk
one by one the days
of isolation pass,
each fading to nothing

Here’s the second tanka published in
Gusts no. 32, Fall/Winter 2020
pale pink petals
scattered on the desk
one by one the days
of isolation pass,
each fading to nothing

Three tanka published in the winter edition of Gusts, Contemporary Tanka, the journal of Tanka Canada. It’s always a huge thrill to be included in this special journal of tanka. I’ll offer them one at a time.
Gusts no. 32, Fall/Winter 2020
lapis lazuli, delft blue
and French ultramarine . . .
the blueness of blue
in these tired veins
just won’t let go

Three tanka published in one my very favorite journals.
GUSTS No. 28, Contemporary Tanka
(fall/winter 2018)
pounding rains
& the peonies are lost –
how did I miss
your pallor, your reticence
that last day?
turning from pale gold
to dusky violet
our last embrace
so certain
so final
rain patter
on windows –
just when it seems
the darkness is over
it all begins again

My thanks to my friend, poet and editor, Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy for writing this tanka sequence, “Changing Notes,” with me. It was published in Kokako 29, a journal of the Poetry Society of New Zealand.
Changing Notes
A Responsive Tanka Sequence
by
Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy (UK) and Mary Kendall (USA)
glass bangles
tinkling with laughter
rice grains
strewn on the newlyweds
seeding a new dream
(SK)
such longing
month after month
turning to years
suddenly the emptiness
disappears
(MK)
the curve of his hand
cups the moon
quickening
the one butterfly
aflutter in my belly
(SK)
watching
the fragile pulse
of his fontanelle
and those half smiles
in his milky dreams
(MK)
rocking horse
hither and thither
the long curls
of sun-kissed memories
braided into birdsong
(SK)
one day his son will chatter
in a different tongue
raven locks
eased into smoothness
. . . a new chosen land
(MK)
Ephemerae,
July Issue 2018
how softly
the light shifts
from day to dusk,
the familiar comfort
of my hand in yours
all morning long
the praying mantis
clings to a window screen—
my fingers less nimble
with each passing year

Praying Mantis and the Moon by Watanabe Seitei

Published: cattails: The Official Journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society October 2017 Issue
Published in Prune Juice, A Journal of Senryu, Kyoka,
Haibun and Haiga, Issue 22, July 2017

An online haiku journal I love is brass bell: a haiku journal. It is curated by Zee Zehava, herself an excellent haiku poet and teacher. This journal sends out a “theme” for the month’s submissions, and the results are always a delight to read. Recently I had several haiku appear under two different themes.
brass bell: a haiku journal, May 2017
Theme: Colorful Haiku
children now gone
no red wagon
to break the fog
flashes of azure wings
two bluebirds wake
the grey morning
brass bell: a haiku journal, April 2017
Theme: Edible Haiku
tasting a word
as I say it aloud —
gnocchi
the soft velvet
of apricots
against our lips
pierogi day —
pinching loose ends
of dough & memories

~ ~ ~
My thanks to Zee Zehava, curator of brass bell: a haiku journal. To read a full issue of this journal, please go to: http://brassbellhaiku.blogspot.com
This is my third tanka in the fall/winter 2016 issue of GUSTS, the journal of Tanka Canada and edited by Kozue Ozawa.

Tanka by Mary Kendall
Published in GUSTS, NO. 24, Contemporary Tanka, Fall/Winter 2016 (Tanka Canada)
These three senryu were just published in the March issue of faileD haikU, a Journal of English Senryu, Volume 1, Issue 3, edited by Michael Rehling.

I hope you are enjoying senryu as much as I am. The world of haiku and senryu is so rich and open.

I’m so excited to have a poem of mine included in the “Where I Live Poetry and Photography Series’ by Silver Birch Press. They have published two other poems of mine in other series, and It is always an honor to be included among their marvelous poetry selections. Thank you, Silver Birch Press!
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Wherever you live, no matter where you might be, nighttime in summer reveals a very different world of sound. During the day we hear birds, breezes, people, mowers, airplanes, cars or sometimes just bees and hummingbird wings. At night, however, we must totally rely on our hearing to grasp all the different sounds that play out in the night chorus. Here in the south, in North Carolina where I live, summer nights are especially noisy. From frogs and owls to whipoorwills and katydids, there are times when it is absolutely deafening. I wish I had the expertise to identify all the different frogs our small garden pond must be home to. There is one frog that sounds much like what I imagine an alien creature would be like—high-pitched, very shrill and almost dizzying in its persistent song. It’s irritating enough to go inside..
Then there are the “call and response” night singers. I love those most of all. I can sit a long while listening to them. Occasionally I hear an owl, but lately it seems there are fewer around. I remember when we regularly had barred owls nesting in our woodland garden. Catching sight of one was always impressive, but hearing one in the middle of the night was truly haunting. I love to sit outside in our screened-in porch when it is dark. The dog often comes and sits with me listening and keeping me company. She makes no sound herself, knowing that we are the polite and attentive audience to this vast chorus of night..
Here is an audio recording of me reading this poem. Just click on the link below, wait a few seconds, and it will begin.
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Sounds of Summer Evenings
by Mary Kendall
Sometimes at night I sit outside
In the screened-in porch out back.
In the darkness, the rustling leaves
Of the tall beech trees are blowing.
The katydids call to one another,
An evening of antiphonal refrain.
On nights when a heavy rain falls,
All you can hear are the tireless frogs
Chorusing in the garden pond.
The deep lone bass, the shrill soprano,
This diverse and discordant choir
Seems to be one of rhapsodical joy.
And then there are times when an owl
Soundlessly lands in a nearby tree
And startles me with its resonant call,
Letting me know it’s now on watch.
Two times more it calls, low and deep.
I rise and go, time now for me to sleep.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Northern by birth, I have lived for more than 35 years in North Carolina. Our summer nights are…
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