Sunday, February 24, 2019

mist
over the lake
slowly I unfold

*Published in the February 2019 issue of Stardust Haiku 

Saturday, February 23, 2019

old friend
the coffee
a bit warmer

*Published by Haikuniverse (www.haikuniverse.com) on 2/22/19

Friday, February 22, 2019

yellow moon
lips tremble
with truth

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 2/22/19

Monday, February 18, 2019

overslept
right and left
reversed

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 2/18/19

Thursday, February 14, 2019

still a sucker
for a compliment
pink camellia

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 2/14/19

Sunday, February 10, 2019

lush quietude
just being
with my being

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 2/10/19

Monday, February 4, 2019

Blank (Slate)

another trash bag has been filled, but I'm no closer to relief

unbecoming you
I become
an abstract

*Published by The Other Bunny on 2/4/19

Friday, February 1, 2019

those secret places

like the ones we find 
in our dreams

they have a way
of bringing us home
faster than cars

*Published in pieces of sky (the cherita book 18)

Wednesday, January 30, 2019

in my palm
every remnant of you

I scatter them

along the edge
of a faraway trail
with only a prayer

*Published in in my palm (the cherita book 22)

Wednesday, January 23, 2019

new year
every mountain
unchanged

*Published in the January 2019 issue of Stardust Haiku 

Sunday, January 20, 2019

on the edge of Orion 
honey
no need for lipstick

*

another dimension D# as Gb or cerulean

*

electric rainbow in the thick of the body

*Published in the January 2019 edition of is/let

Friday, January 11, 2019

Step Zero

I buy a six-pack and blow through them. It's all right, I tell myself. I don't do this every day. Just a few times each week.

media spin
no one hears
the city burn

*Published in the January 2019 edition of Seedpods
**Honorable Mention in the UHTS Samurai Haibun Contest 2018

Tuesday, January 1, 2019

I promise

if you look
even closer

I am
more beautiful
than these scars

*Published in snow ghosts (the cherita book 21)

Wednesday, December 26, 2018

frost encases
each blade of grass
this belief
of not being enough
for you or myself

*Published in Issue #19 of Moonbathing
**Winner of the Editor’s Choice Award

Monday, December 24, 2018

sun after snow
may I never forget
your grace

*Published in the December 2018 issue of Stardust Haiku

Friday, December 14, 2018

splitting atoms
this magenta
behind words

*Selected for The Haiku Foundation’s Per Diem on 12/14/18

Monday, December 3, 2018

dry mouth

on this night
with no moon

is this how
our vows turn into
broken promises?

*Published in the stories (the cherita book 20)

Tuesday, November 27, 2018

find me

in the space
between breaths

between this world
and the one
you cannot see

*

after the divorce

naked became
mother's normal

so desperate for attention
she demanded it
from her children

*

to one, I am meek
to another, aggressive
my hands
are cut and tired
from holding your mirror

*

how twilight
blankets trees
ashamed
I cover
my aging body

*Published in Atlas Poetica 32

Friday, October 19, 2018

falling petals
slowly I embrace
my aging body 

*Sakura Award recipient in the 2018 Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festial Haiku Invitational

Wednesday, October 3, 2018

fireworks
in the distance
serenity

*Published in the September 2018 issue of Stardust Haiku

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

no more grey
I finally call it
rape

life after trauma
even the tulips
cry obscenities 

*Published in #FemkuMag Issue Four

Wednesday, September 19, 2018

sunflower bed
dreaming
about stardust

*Published in A Sense of Place: Meadow/Field - Sight on The Haiku Foundation’s website

Friday, September 14, 2018

remembering
our first kiss
mountain's breath

*Published in A Sense of Place: Mountain - Touch on The Haiku Foundation's website

Saturday, September 8, 2018

bare branches
what the cancer
left behind

supernova
mother leaves
her body

*Published in Wales Haiku Journal, summer 2018

Thursday, September 6, 2018

red velvet
a little mountain mist
on my tongue

*Published in A Sense of Place: Mountain - Taste on The Haiku Foundation’s website