hedgerow is a quarterly short-poetry journal dedicated to publishing an eclectic mix of new & established voices across the spectrum of the short poem, with particular attention to the constantly evolving forms of haiku, senryu, tanka & haiga.
kindly,
Caroline Skanne,
founding editor
I’m glad to have found out about Hedgerow. Looking forward to reading some great new small poems.
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you! how wonderful!
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a lovely journal! I look forward to reading more of the poems you’ve selected.
LikeLike
thank you so much Mary! you bring joy, truly.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Can’t believe I haven’t been following your blog all this time!! It’s been a while… Hope you’re well there, Caroline :). xJ
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you J! hedgerow is a relatively new venture.
LikeLike
It is my first time on this site. Can you tell me what you consider a “short” poem? In checking past submissions, I am finding that the lengths vary in length considerably and am not sure what you consider short. Thanks! Michele
LikeLike
there are no strict definitions. simply send the work you feel most strongly about. thanks for taking an interest in hedgerow!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Just discovered Hedgerow on Twitter. Pleased about that. Now following.
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you, excellent!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pingback: About | Celfypridd
Hullo, Caroline, how are submissions made?
Charl Cilliers
franban@mweb.co.za
LikeLike
submission guidelines can be found here — https://wordpress.com/stats/day/hedgerowpoems.wordpress.com
thanks Charl!
LikeLike
One Thing
One thing I suddenly understood
when a bird
sang on a bough
in a dark wood
is that when that song was heard
by the heart is forever now.
Charl JF Cilliers
CINQUAINS:
dark earth
now stops my mouth:
the silence of the rose
will blossom in its own season
of truth
Charl JF Cilliers
today
a special day
that is but never was
because I’m always wanting it
to be
Charl JF Cilliers
always
struggling with words
to fill shapes, when those words
are not content to be the things
themselves
Charl JF Cilliers
my cold breath
mists into
a dove’s call
Charl JF Cilliers
the sun sets
the rain
on fire
Charl JF Cilliers
the heron stands
conducting a chorus
of silences
Charl JF Cilliers
LikeLiked by 1 person