hedgerow #21

welcome to #21 of hedgerow, dedicated more or less, to the arrival of spring! for those of you in the southern hemisphere, wishing you a happy autumn equinox. always grateful for all of your support, contributors & readers alike, you make this a beautiful place.

with love & kindness…

 

 

 

crossroads —
a cloud
covers Polaris

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

 

 

 

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Barbara Kaufmann can be found (or lost) wandering in the woods, beaches and gardens of New York, her camera and notebook in hand, hunting for poems.http://wabisabipoet.wordpress.com/

 

 

 

celebrating
seven inches of melting snow …
the frog choir

.

midday snooze …
the old dog stretches
toward a patch of sun

Julie Bloss Kelsey’s favorite thing about spring is the emergence of frogs, especially the spring peepers that frequent her back yard. @MamaJoules on Twitter

 

 

 

For Luck

The scarf she gave me is rather shocking. Orange, red, light blue, dark blue, shades of green. But not a smidgen of brown and the absence of purple is nearly palpable. More to the point: where is the black? Nothing I own, or have ever owned, has been this colorful. It’s alarming. But also, strangely magnetic.

I wear the scarf when I’m alone in the apartment, waiting for water to boil, or squinting over a book in the fading afternoon light. I don’t have the courage or the humor to wear it in front of anyone else. It wraps twice around my neck, is soft against my cheeks, and when I inhale I’m brought right back to that childhood bedroom at the end of the long, dark hallway. Did I have a baby blanket that felt like this?

for luck —
a red thread
hangs from the crib

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

 

 

 

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Robin White is an artisan, gardener & beekeeper living in Deerfield, New Hampshire, USA. She is the face behind Wild Graces and a co-founding editor of Akitsu Quarterly, a haiku journal.

 

 

 

winter wind …
letting go of myself
in the sand

.

at the cliff’s edge
I wait
for the cold moon

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).

 

 

 

last leaf
goldfinch alights
the stripped branch

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.

 

 

 

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Joann Grisetti lived up in Sasebo Japan and eighteen other places. She now lives in Florida with her husband and two sons. Her poetry, photos and stories have appeared in a number of print and online journals. She is still waiting to grow up.

 

 

 

Process

every morning before a mirror
you make-up like you were building
the world all over again on your face

do you not know that time
is a metaphor— for something that moves
deep and fast like fire on the mound of a wax

don’t you know that time is the same as death
even if it’s just a profusion of the process of dying
and living again

Saddiq Dzukogi is a Nigerian poet. He writes from the Capital city of Minna

 

 

 

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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 #14

welcome to #14 of hedgerow, it is so good to be back! the second issue of the year brings you 14 different poets & artists. as always, grateful to contributors & readers alike, please keep sending in your submissions as well as spreading the word, every effort really counts! if you haven’t yet found our facebook page, please follow the link below. exciting news about the print version will be posted here this coming week — https://www.facebook.com/hedgerowpoems

with love & kindness…

 

 

Alexis Rotella

Like me
the moon folded
in half.

Alexis Rotella (Arnold, Maryland, USA) served as Haiku Society of America President in 1984, her famous poem Purple appears in Creative Writing: An Intro to Poetry and Fiction St. Martin’s Press, Teaching with Heart (Jossey-Bass, San Francisco, 2014).

 

 

Peter Wilkin

Galloping away from a murder of crows

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Peter Wilkin is a writer, poet & iphoneographer who lives in West Yorkshire, England.

 

 

Rachel Sutcliffe

day of your death
flowers at the bedside
shedding petals

.

alone now
the chill in our room
at sunset

.

the first night
without you
star filled sky

Rachel Sutcliffe, from Yorkshire, UK, has suffered from a serious immune disorder for the past 14 years, throughout this time writing has been her therapy, it keeps her from going insane!

 

 

Janet Butler

crow wings
across the morning
his hard song
a scratch on tender skies
his shadow grazes your hand

Janet Butler recently dove into the wonderful world of tanka, and has yet to emerge from it.

 

 

Carole Johnston

first a wren
then two crows
hawks stand guard
over winding roads
one flies across my path
out of the fog

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. The books will be delivered in February. https://finishinglinepress.com/product_info.php?products_id=2211

 

 

Paula Dawn Lietz

my lips cold
upon your white shoulder
a desolate touch

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Paula Dawn Lietz ( Pd Lietz ) is an accomplished multi-genre artist, photographer and poet. http://www.pdlietzphotography.com

 

 

Janet Qually

caught up again
in your wave of emotion
two hearts pounding
I still enjoy
the escalation

Janet Qually (USA) has been published in several journals and enjoys writing all forms of poetry. She frequently creates computer graphics to illustrate her work.

 

 

Julie Bloss Kelsey

walking the labyrinth
with my never-born child
… the call of wildflowers

.

my daughter’s hug —
butterfly wings
around my heart

.

after the play date
glitter in the dust pan

Julie Bloss Kelsey (@MamaJoules on Twitter) just earned her certification as a Maryland Master Naturalist.

 

 

Robert Tremmel

INTERRUPTIONS

Legs up and straight
out in front

reading Red Pine’s
commentary on Heart
Sutra, page one-hundred
forty-nine, pondering
anuttara samyak
sambodhi, unexcelled
perfect mantra

siren
at the stop sign
beyond the trees

neither
can be put
into words.

Robert Tremmel lives and writes in Ankeny, Iowa.

 

 

Ed Bremson

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Ed Bremson lives in Raleigh, NC, USA where he writes poetry, watches movies, erases novels, and makes haiku song videos.

 

 

Garima Behal

pistachio shells we split our ways

Garima Behal is a student-poet-writer pursuing her graduation in Commerce, in New Delhi, India. Seeking a great Perhaps, she runs her blog at : http://theseismicscribbler.blogspot.in/

 

 

Shloka Shankar

this numbness
begins to thaw
tonight
i undress wounds
of the past

Shloka Shankar is a freelance writer who resides in India. She is the editor of the literary & arts journal, Sonic Boom. (http://sonicboomjournal.wix.com/sonicboom)

 

 

Chen-ou Liu

Confession of a Photography Addict

Mary invites me over to her place for an interview. She has her strands dyed every color of the rainbow, and looks much younger than she is. On the wall facing the window, she tacks up a giant photo of herself, composed of many smaller pictures. After taking a sip of iced tea, she starts talking in an unusually deep, husky voice, “I’ve spent ten years on a shrink’s couch, but I still hear him through the wall whispering to me. Every day when I get up and look in the bedroom mirror, I see that man staring back at me. I want him carved off my face…”

Father’s Day
blanked out on her calendar
morning chill

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)

 

 

Chase Gagnon

through candle smoke
I write my poem
with the quill of a phoenix
while my fingers sink
into the gray ash of this life
for warmth

.

among
the dark prophecies
of withered
graffiti,
the cracks
in an empty sidewalk
full
of tiny
flowers

Chase Gagnon is a student from Detroit, who loves staying up all night drinking coffee and writing poetry. His poems have appeared in a number of journals and anthologies over the past two years.

 

 

hedgerow #7

welcome to #7 of hedgerow, bringing you 19 different poets & artists! please keep sending in your work and thanks also for spreading the word, every effort is appreciated. grateful to contributors and readers alike. with love & kindness…

Marianne Paul

beneath Toronto
there is an ancient river
the current as slow as the flow
of glass
there is something beautiful
about the hidden
the forgotten
in the form of rivers
beneath our surfaces

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Marianne Paul is a Canadian novelist and poet. You can learn more about her work by visiting http://www.mariannepaul.com or following her on twitter @mariannpaul.

Jennifer Arbini

Child of the Earth

I was a child of the Earth:
Dirty hands, dirty feet.
I loved the sound
of cicadas in summer;
Rattle snake grass
Rattling against the hem of my skirt
And billowing dust.

I was a child of the Earth:
Curious eyes, curious heart,
I relished the adventure of exploring the land;
Cool streams
Covered by an evergreen canopy
And dappled light.

I was a child of the Earth.
Devoted mind, devoted spirit,
I played in this backyard everyday;
Long ago memories
Lingering in my daily thoughts
And writing my story.

Jennifer Arbini is a Californian woman whose greatest passion is to travel and experience the world.

Jo Waterworth

It’s OK

I can remember lying on the earth
gazing at the blazing-with-wonder night sky
knowing I would not fall off.

Shining right back.

Let me hold your hand.

Jo Waterworth lives in Glastonbury and has had a pamphlet of short poetry published by Poetry Space of Bristol.

Neelam Dadhwal

Blue

The sky dripped away or
held back, with no remorse,
I ever watched
the crescent blue,
striking sometimes
my heart
of green valley, of meadows,
of limbs of forms,
and I decided
to look at you,
and hold it for ever,
the blue of you.

The ever blue.

Neelam Dadhwal, Chandigarh, India

Paula Dawn Lietz

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Paula Dawn Lietz ( Pd Lietz ) is an accomplished multi-genre artist, photographer and poet. http://www.pdlietzphotography.com

Clifton Redmond

Square Peg

He was different.
He could see sounds,
feel colours.

When people tried
to get close
he threw tantrums,

pressed his hands
against his ears,
his cocoon.

The doctors diagnosed
him with fancy words,
dosed him with drugs;

branded him unstable,
and filed him away
in a locked cabinet.

Clifton Redmond is an Irish poet; a member of the Carlow Writers Co-operative, his poems have been published in various literary magazines and journals.

Anne Curran

just loving
I hold him close
afraid
the storm in me
might push him away

Anne Curran lives in Hamilton, New Zealand close to her
parents where she writes, dreams and works to help elderly
stay in their homes.

Melanie Barbato

Roman Room

Mnemonists
Tie thoughts to tangible things
With the chair, the table
The framed painting on the bedroom wall
They recall
Random words
Or the order
Of shuffled cards
I do this, too, but for reassurance
I touch in my room
The wood and the glass
Substitutes for what
Has been wrested from my hands
When I ask who am I?
They say
You give us shelter –
We remember the names

Melanie Barbato is currently completing her doctoral studies in Indology and Religious Studies at LMU Munich/ Germany.

Carole Johnston

among tombstones
an old man in a chair
red cap and jacket
playing music for the dead
leaves blowing in the wind

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. The books will be delivered in January. https://finishinglinepress.com/product_info.php?products_id=2211

Maureen Sudlow

It’s just an old cardboard box from my mother’s attic. My sister wants to throw it out with ‘all the other rubbish’, but I am afraid of losing more of my mother than I can bear. When I open it, there is a smell of dust and old peppermints, and I think I feel the pressure of my mother’s warm hand on mine.

memories are
the treasures that I hold
these photographs

Maureen Sudlow is a member of The New Zealand Society of Authors (Northland), and the New Zealand Poetry Society, and writes mainly poetry and text for children’s picture books.

Billy Antonio

summer vacation
my daughter’s crayons
scattered on the floor

late afternoon
an old woman carries
the sun
on a winnowing basket
on her way home

Billy Antonio is a public school teacher in the Philippines where he writes fiction and poetry to remind himself of moments he thinks are worth remembering.

Roary Williams

crystal
on a string
in the window
first thing the sun
has said all day

Roary Williams, Albuquerque New Mexico, USA, is a simple poet who loves nature and the seasons (@CoyoteSings)

Stevie Strang

november sunrise
silently inches its way
across the yard
unfolding the morning
one ray at a time

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Stevie Strang is a writer, photographer/Artist and late night poet in Southern California. More of her work can be viewed at http://justperfectstudio.blogspot.com/

S.Eta Grubešić

Grain of sand.
In my shoe I wear the
whole universe.

S.Eta Grubešić, Croatia, ex-journalist, writer short story , poems and photographer. Her works have been published in various books and literary e-portals.

Vibeke Laier

touch of
moonlight in the
evening prayer

gentle waves
a line of stars
painted in the sand

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.

Tim Gardiner

onshore wind sea horses dance

Tim Gardiner, Manningtree, England is a professional ecologist who has written scientific papers, natural history books and poetry which has been published in literary journals such as Blithe Spirit and Frogpond.

Julie Warther

above the spillway —
root steps
in the riverbank

Julie Warther writes haiku from her home in Dover, Ohio where she lives with her husband and three children.

Laura Williams

all that remains … frost on the blackberry brambles

Laura Williams has been writing haiku and tanka since 2012. She lives in California, USA. http://www.foralovelything.blogspot.com

Caroline Skanne

whole

Caroline Skanne, rochester, uk, obsessed with anything wild & free, she is the founder of hedgerow: a journal of small poems.