hedgerow #20

welcome to #20 of hedgerow, bringing you nine different poets & artists. this will be the last winter issue, next week we’ll celebrate the spring equinox! send in your work in time. thanks for all your support, every effort is appreciated. happy friday everyone.

with love & kindness…

 

 

 

Snow / No Hummingbirds

Finally, the refrigerator motor shuts off and the loudest sound is one I make myself by circling my thumbs around each other. I don’t realize I’m doing this until I try to identify the sound and, by the process of elimination — since there are no hummingbirds in the apartment, no rustling leaves — I figure it out.

It’s been snowing all day. The last car went by hours ago and the tire tracks are filled in. Only two people pass, a man and a woman, walking down the middle of the street instead of on the sidewalk. I watch from the window: the woman, in a pale trench coat and high leather boots, holds a black umbrella over her head; the man wears a hooded jacket and lumbers beside her. They pass my house, then the fire station’s parking lot, the pretty house with the stained glass windows, the health club, and the abandoned storefront. They don’t appear to be talking to each other but I can’t be sure.

I go back to my chair, and the novel I don’t yet care about, and realize too late that I should have changed into warmer socks. I am too lazy to get up again. The refrigerator has started to hum again and the fire department’s generator just kicked in.

hour after hour
at the window —
yes it is still snowing

Zee Zahava lives in Ithaca, New York, where she leads weekly Writing Circles in her downtown studio. She is the editor of brass bell, an online haiku journal: http://brassbellhaiku.blogspot.com

 

 

 

trying to
clear a path from
the past
yesterday’s snow
heavy in his shovel

.

watching
for her return
another
snowflake melts
on my window

Dave Read is a Canadian poet whose work has appeared in many journals, including hedgerow. You can find his micropoetry on Twitter, @AsSlimAsImBeing.

 

 

 

lost behind
tree silhouettes
a fallen star

.

on the edge of
a snowdrop
rainbows

Vibeke Laier lives in Randers, Denmark, she has been writing and studying poetry since 2012, but her interest in the art of haiku stretches back to when she was a schoolgirl.

 

 

 

winter
a neon dream journey
nowhere zen road

.

unnamed

Carole Johnston lives in Lexington, Kentucky USA where she drives around Bluegrass backroads with a notebook and camera in the front seat, capturing the haiku moment. Journeys: Getting Lost, Carole’s first chapbook of haiku and tanka, is now available for presale from Finishing Line Press. https://finishinglinepress.com/product_info.php?products_id=2211

 

 

 

Granddad in waiting

Directed at the nirvana
whoosh…
a single digit
climbs the clouds
beyond the reach of the streetlights
trailing off into silence

Flash— Bang,

Out of this disappearing point of light
Cascades golden rain
a murmur of a pop
adds silver splashes—
fracturing stars
slowly fading—
crackling to out.

Hello?

More glittering Fingers—
racing skyward,
music?
Tchaikovsky 1812.
woven in with

Hello?

Shrieks whistles
blues and Reds
greens and yellows
hissing, screaming
bangs and ka-booms
a climax of illumination and
reverberation.

On your marks!

HELLO are you still there?
Do what lov’—

Set!

sorry—
I didn’t hear you

Go…
my heart starts the race,

Callum and Blake are here
you know, the twins
hello!
Yeah! Yeah! I hear you,

Finding it hard going
my heart
hammering on
the final lap

are they all ok?
mother and babies doing fine

pressing the tape—
crossing the finish line,
winner

lovely what weight—
hello! hello! what,

she’s gone—
I also hang up

after a pounding race
warming down
relief and joy
overwhelmed
I weep.

My first born—
that poor girl
pregnant; huge and
uncomfortable
feeling ugly
for the last few weeks.

My eyes swim as
reality floods
ya-hooooooooo
I’m a granddad
whoosh…
cue music…

Mike Keville from London AKA Mikeymike.

 

 

 

BACKLIT

She treads the shoulder
Hesitates
Her silhouette
fine-lettering limbs
serif paws
Her glance to the sun’s blaze
her swivel on one hind leg
her felicitous leave
The saving of her own fox self

Lizz Murphy was born in Ireland but has lived in rural Australia for a long time. She has published twelve books and is currently fixated on small poems.

 

 

 

winter reaching the middle of the pond

.

geese overhead
the one that fills the spaces
between honks

Julie Warther lives in Dover, Ohio and serves as Midwest Regional Coordinator for the Haiku Society of America. (www.hsa-haiku.org)

 

 

 

subsiding gently into a hillside
a house I used to know

Molly Guy is Australian. She has had six books published, most of these contain collections of micro poetry and short stories.

 

 

 

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Sandi Pray is a wild child who roams between mountain and marsh in North Carolina and Florida, http://ravencliffs.blogspot.com.

 

 

 

hedgerow #19

welcome to #19 hedgerow, bringing you ten different poets & artists, including for the first time some very short fiction! thank you all for turning up. it is a beautiful thing…

if you haven’t yet passed by our sister site wildflower poetry press — https://wildflowerpoetrypress.wordpress.com/

with love & kindness

 

 

 

The Journey Itself Is Home
for Matsuo Basho

I carry the dead weight
of cliched poetry
on the road
to the Interior
cherry blossoms drifting

Like the shadow in the morning, the workshop lecturer’s comment lingers in my mind, “There are two kinds of traveler-poets: those who look at the map and those who look in the mirror. The first are embarking on their journey, and the latter are returning home.”

Chen-ou Liu is currently the editor and translator of NeverEnding Story, http://neverendingstoryhaikutanka.blogspot.ca/, and the author of five books, including Following the Moon to the Maple Land (First Prize, 2011 Haiku Pix Chapbook Contest) and A Life in Transition and Translation (Honorable Mention, 2014Turtle Light Press Biennial Haiku Chapbook Competition).

 

 

 

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Debbie Strange is a published tanka and haiku poet and an avid photographer. She enjoys creating haiga and tanshi (small poem) art. You are invited to visit her on Twitter @Debbie_Strange.

 

 

 

out at sea
with no wind in my sails…
the hardest
place to be
is by your side

Sergio A. Ortiz, Editor http://undertowtankareview.blogspot.com/

 

 

 

reunion …
sailing in every puddle
thunder clouds

Archana Kapoor Nagpal is an internationally published author of four books and three anthologies. Presently, she resides in Bangalore, India. You can visit her Amazon Author Profile to know more about her books and literary contributions.

 

 

 

The 365th Day

This is the day we do that summing up.
Annoying, isn’t it, the way
we tally and sort the year’s days
into the things – or people – we like and those
that caused us pain? We inventory
and discard, if we’re smart, whatever
no longer works, or what
carries no joy. We have this need
to take stock, as though we
were running a giant store full of
stuff, boots and gloves, or jars
of face cream and scented soaps.

This year let’s
let it alone,
think instead of the faint yellow blush
on the forsythia. Soon we can snip
its branches, hammer the stems
against the stone walk, set it all
in warm water in an old jar.

The small blooms, and then
tender green leaves will unfold
in the corner window.
Forcing spring
in midwinter.

Lynne Viti teaches writing about law, technology and media at Wellesley College in Massachusetts. She has written and published on such disparate topics as law, television, gardening, fashion, and growing up in Baltimore. See her links to publications on her blog: stillinschool.wordpress.com.

 

 

 

pencil pine–
letters you wrote
to the moon

Robyn Cairns is a Melbourne based poet who shares her poetry and photography on twitter @robbiepoet.

 

 

 

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Steve Wilkinson, Co.Durham, England. Editor of the Bamboo Hut and currently exploring the avenue of TanshiArt.

 

 

 

Strangers

I sit on the front steps waiting for my ride. I have to be careful not to get into the wrong car. Strangers pull up in front of my house all the time and I jump up and greet them like long-lost friends. Sometimes this scares them and sometimes it scares me. I’m always having to explain about being nearsighted.

Familiar

Once in a restaurant I waved to myself in the mirror because I looked so familiar. I was critical of my haircut but other than that I looked like someone I might like to know. I gave myself a friendly smile, along with the wave. This could have been embarrassing but luckily nobody else noticed.

Excited

In the dream my friend tells me she is studying “Berlitz” and I get all excited, thinking she said “burlesque.”

Zee Zahava lives in Ithaca, New York, where she leads weekly Writing Circles in her downtown studio. She is the editor of brass bell, an online haiku journal: http://brassbellhaiku.blogspot.com

 

 

 

lemon gin
the sun sets
earlier today

winter winds
he still makes her
blush

Dave Read is a Canadian poet whose work has appeared in many journals, including hedgerow. You can find his micropoetry on Twitter @AsSlimAsImBeing.

 

 

 

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Veronika Zora Novak is simply a daydreamer.

 

 

 

hedgerow #16

thrilled to bring you #16 of hedgerow featuring 13 different poets & artists. thanks everyone, contributors as well as readers, for turning up!

if you have a moment, please pass by our sister site wildflower poetry press (find links below) launching its first title this week. here you will also find a sneak peek of forthcoming titles, including the print version of hedgerow.

https://wildflowerpoetrypress.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/wildflowerpoetrypress

thanks again! with love & kindness…

 
 

Jennifer Thompson

pink sky
the perfection I failed
to reach…
I am cracked pavement
beside your painted lines

Jennifer Thompson, West Virginia, USA

 
 

Sandi Pray

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Sandi Pray is a wild child who roams between mountain and marsh in North Carolina and Florida, http://ravencliffs.blogspot.com.

 
 

Bob Brooks

UNOBJECTIONABLE

Oh to be
unobjectionable–

the very word
broad, flat,

rough-surfaced,
useful as a doormat.

.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MY PANTS

32 – 32

34 – 32

36 – 32

36 – 30

Bob Brooks’s poems have been published in many journals including The Beloit Poetry Journal, Poetry, Poetry Northwest, Prairie Schooner, and Rattle; in four chapbooks, most recently Companion Pieces (Finishing Line Press, 2012); and in the full-length collection Unguarded Crossing (Antrim House Books, 2011), short-listed for the 2012 Maine Literary Award in Poetry, and named first runner-up for the 2012 Eric Hoffer Poetry Book Award. He lives with his wife and dog in Concord, Massachusetts, and Stockton Springs, Maine.

 
 

Mike Keville

charity walk
the sound of gravel
in my hips

.

why! she asks…
how do I explain
to expectant eyes
granddad doesn’t
know everything…

.

morning mist
a peacock’s aha!
goes unanswered

Mike Keville from London AKA Mikeymike.

 
 

Anne Curran

at the art gallery
with an artist friend …
I am seduced
by her explanation
of light and dark

Anne Curran is a Japanese verse forms poet who lives with
her cat Ollie, and writes when time allows in Hamilton, New Zealand.

 
 

Michael Mark

Reflection
– for Sara

You are the perfect moon.
I am the still lake

to show how beautiful
you are in all your phases.

Come and go as you please.
Whenever you are thirsty,

drink
until you are full.

Michael Mark lives in California and is a hospice volunteer and long distance walker whose poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. @michaelgrow

 
 

Wendy Bourke

Bereft and adrift
– time stopped –
in a sea of grief,
for we could not imagine
how the lot of us
would make a go of it
without that calm,
beautiful man
captaining our little ship:

the passage of time
marked, one by one,
at the moment of resolve
to carry on
as best we could . . .
as he would have wished.

Wendy Bourke lives in Vancouver, BC where – after a life loving words and scribbling poetry lines on pizza boxes and used envelopes – she finally got down to writing and publishing her poetry “in earnest” four years ago.

 
 

Julie Bloss Kelsey

first dance
all awkward elbows
and tight knees
he watches her feet
at every turn

.

checking the pockets
before I launder
her school clothes
I add another rock
to my collection

(written in response to a wonderful poem by Robyn Cairns @robbiepoet)

Julie Bloss Kelsey (@MamaJoules on Twitter) lives in suburban Maryland with her husband, three kids, one dog, one rat, and eight fish.

 
 

Carole Johnston

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Carole Johnston lives in Lexington, Kentucky USA where she drives around Bluegrass backroads with a notebook and camera in the front seat, capturing the haiku moment. Journeys: Getting Lost, Carole’s first chapbook of haiku and tanka, is now available for presale from Finishing Line Press. https://finishinglinepress.com/product_info.php?products_id=2211

 
 

Lolly Williams

Clear for Takeoff

leaving home …
butterflies take flight
beyond the garden
the air turbulence tilts
all my baggage to one side

crash landing
in a sleepy hollow …
through the years
seeds of slumber have attached
themselves to all my dreams

wandering lost
through every scene
with broken wings
I remind myself
that I will fly again

buttons, papers
odd bits of everything
parts of the sum
I clip new wings
from a magazine

enchanted evening
the scent of white jasmine
in the warm wind
I sense a whole other life
still ahead of me

Lolly Williams, from California, is a little magpie who collects scraps of words, phrases, images and other shiny things for her short form poetry and mixed media art. Her work can be found in various print and online publications.

 
 

Mary Kendall

curls of steam
a pot of ginger tea
fragrant this night

Mary Kendall, a poet from Chapel Hill, North Carolina, is the author of a chapbook, Erasing the Doubt, and co-author of A Giving Garden. Her poems have appeared both online and in print, and her blog, A Poet in Time can be found at http://www.apoetintime.com.

 
 

Olivier Schopfer

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Olivier Schopfer lives in Geneva, Switzerland, the city with the huge lake water fountain. He likes capturing the moment in haiku and photography. His work has appeared in The Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku 2014 and in numerous online and print journals.

 
 

Stacey Murphy

At day’s end
All over the world,
We lather the cloths.
Time to remove the makeup
The armor
The magician’s blindfold
The leather
The ancient battle-mask
The gunk that might as well stay.
Scrub through the fake smile
The nervous twitch
The uncertain glance
The bruise
The pox
The shame
The un-yield
The unintended insult
The fully intended dig
The well-meant concern
The sloppy unwelcome kiss
The piercing glare.
Keep scrubbing. Try to get out
The control
The no way out
The making do
The not good enough
The slap
The no choice
The scars
The silence.
And now, sister of the world,
Sleep.
Tomorrow you start again.

Stacey Murphy is happiest when her thoughts are clear, short and haiku shaped, but living in Ithaca, NY helps too.