Failed Haiku A Journal of English Senryu
published January 1, 2021
December 11, 2020
Cattails: A Journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society
October 11, 2019
Edited by Robert Epstein
originally appeared in A Hundred Gourds 6/15
Commentary by judge, Steve Hodge.
The Fourth Annual Jane Reichhold Haiga Competition
Prune Juice and Failed Haiku 11/19
October 25, 2019
August 26, 2019
The reeds make music
In their own greening voices,
They touch one another, like lovers caressing,
And the rustling rises like an anthem.
Sea oats don’t ask for second chances,
They just quiver with life,
And when the breeze passes by
They stand in ecstasy.
A falcon rides an updraft,
Above a sun-beaten shore
Not questioning but soaring,
Wings swooshing as it dives to find
An unsuspecting field mouse,
Whose time has run out,
The final screech unheard, except by the wind.
I walk for miles and miles,
My mind wandering and pondering
The evidence all around,
My eyes sting with the yellow of goldenrod
Born of sand and salt,
My ears ring with the humming of bees
Sucking the last bit of summer.
Late afternoon shadows pull me back
From thoughts that wandered farther than I
Along the beach,
I gather myself up, reluctantly,
Leaving the restless ocean behind.
The wind drums in my ears
This is your one and only chance.
I sense my breath keeping time with the wind,
I melt into the day moon.
The Bards Annual Anthology