Curtains billowing . . .

It’s a real honor to have three tanka and one haiku published in a favorite journal of mine, Blithe Spirit. My thanks to editor Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy for his support and encouragement.

Blithe Spirit, Volume 28, Number 1, Journal of the British Haiku Society, February Issue 2018

 

 

curtains billowing

in the warm spring air

each strand of lace

intricate, undecipherable

… like you

 

 

an early daffodil

frozen in a bed of snow

you left us

long before

we were ready

 

 

spooning dumplings

into chicken soup

I imagine my mother –

how I wish we had

another chance

 

 

milkweed pods

               fading to nothing

              as we age

 

Lucie Veilleux aka 3dots

Milkweed Pods by Lucie Veilleux aka 3dots

Cherry blossoms . . . (a haiku)

 

 

Golden Haiku Third Place Winner

 

In Washington, DC, the winners and runners up of the Golden Triangle Haiku Competition are displayed in individual signs on downtown streets. Mine placed third out of over 1,675 entries from 45 countries and 34 states, and the District of Columbia. This was quite a nice surprise for me. This year’s contest theme was “Spring in the City.”

 

Here is a press release giving background of this competition:

https://goldentriangledc.com/news/golden-triangle-in-washington-d-c-announces-2018-golden-haiku-winners/

Use this link to read all the haiku that are now on signs on Washington DC streets.

https://3al7vg3hahkr4er97p13jo9w-wpengine.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/Golden-Haiku-2018-Signs.pdf

 

Photo by Theodor Horydcz, Tidal Basin with Cherry Blossoms, Washington, DC

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not mine, but this is an example of how all the haiku are displayed in the Farragut Square area of Washington, DC

 

 

Flying against the wind

The poem, “Flying Against the Wind” is the final poem in my chapbook, Erasing the Doubt, (c) 2015,  Finishing Line Press. (The book is available for purchase from Finishing Line Press.)

 

 

Flying Against the Wind

 

Your thoughts drifted out to sea—riding on the wind

like wisps of breath lost on a freezing day.

.
With only the lighthouse for company and water all around,

your steady feet were planted firmly on the point.

You looked as if you were an island isolated from the world,

but you were not.

 

The chill March air made even you feel cold.

You pulled the flapping wings of your jacket closed,

zipped it, and slid your hands deep inside the pockets.

Except for this, you never moved.

 

You stood there looking at the sea that went on forever,

searching the horizon for clues where it might end.

The wind stung your eyes as waves conjured up whitecaps,

then swept them away like mermaids lost and turned to foam

while currents pulled together and then apart.

 

A fierce gust blew through your bones, trying to topple you,

but you stood fast. Even sea birds hid behind steep cliffs,

not daring to fly against the wind.

 

waves

“Arai: Whitecaps on the Ocean (Arai—Enkai hato),” c. 1848-1849, by Utagawa Hiroshige I

Your dark self . . .

 

It is always an honor to appear in Pamela A. Babusci’s Moonbathing, a Journal of Women’s Tanka.  The high level of quality tanka in this bi-annual journal by some of the best women writers of tanka make it a journal to read again and again.

 

IMG_0050

Moonbathing, a journal of women’s tanka, Issue 17, November 2017 

 

 

 

your dark self—

that side

hidden

away like

a new moon

 

 

New year moon . . .

 

 

Screen Shot 2018-01-06 at 12.35.48 AM

 

One of my very favorite poetry journals, hedgerow, a journal of small poems, published this haiku in their print issue #122. Isn’t the cover picture gorgeous?

 

 

new year moon—

looking backward

looking forward

 

 

My thanks to Caroline Skanne, the poet/editor behind this lovely journal.

Pooh sticks . . .

 

IMG_0052

In the November, 2017 issue of Blithe Spirit, the Journal of the British Haiku Society, these tanka and haiku were published. All poems are (c) 2017 Mary Kendall.

 

Screen Shot 2018-01-06 at 1.16.02 AM

 

 

Queen’s dollhouse—
we examine the tiny rooms
in barely a whisper

 

 

crowning—
the full moon pushes
through fog

 

 

 

his fingerprint
left under a cup
he made
her only way
to hold on

 

kimjpalmer_star_tribune.com_

 

the slow uncurling
of the fiddleheads
one by one
learning to let go
is never easy

 

 

 

Speechless . . . (a tanka)

 

 

 

the statue of David
stands so tall in the gallery,
I am speechless
in the Italian
I never learned

 

 

Published in Ekphrasis: The British Haiku Society Member’s Anthology, 2017

IMG_0042

 

The statue of David by Michelangelo is in the Accademia Gallery in Florence, Italy. It was sculpted between 1501 and 1504.