One New Poem in SPROUT

 

I am so pleased to share that my birds-and-trauma poem "Window: White Pine" is out now in Issue 2: Edge of SPROUT, a self-described eco-urban poetry journal. This poem was previously featured in Scottish artist Clare Archibald's 2021 forest installation "Lone Women in Flashes of Wilderness."

You can read the poem here.

Two New Poems in SIREN

photo: Daniel Tong

Many, many years ago, Ashdown Forest in Sussex inspired Winnie the Pooh's Hundred Acre Woods. Earlier this year, the forest caught fire.

I wrote about this wildfire—and some other feelings—for SIREN magazine's "Sanctuary" issue.

Read the poems here.

Lady Suo's Clavicle: A Corollary

after Lady Suo (11th-12th cent.)

That early fall night
When I woke to find
Your sleeping cheek (warm weight
On my shoulder) may never
Have happened,
But the dream is nearly enough.





photograph by Ani Eleuterio

Interlude: Other People's Poetry, Inappropriately Timed Haiku Edition

That spring night I spent
Pillowed on your arm
Never really happened
Except in a dream.
Unfortunately I am
Talked about anyway.





-Lady Suo (11th-12th cent.), tr. Kenneth Rexroth.
One of my favorite poems in every season.

After Three Days of Rain

The white irises
are rumpled, look like
your sheets in the morning.






iris photograph by Mike VanDerWalker

Trespass at the Reservoir

On frozen shores the
only sound was you, punching
holes in cracking ice.

After a Long Winter

There are trees near your house
that you did not know were cherry
until the blossoms came.









photograph by Toshihiro Oshima

Half-Haiku: The Firebird Again

Without belief the phoenix
is just a bird on fire.




photograph by Zoolien

Half Haiku: Icy Morning

You have gone; like the
vagrant moon I am homesick.






photograph by Elfi Kaut

Interlude: Other People's Poetry

No one spoke,
The host, the guest,
The white chrysanthemums.




Ryota, translated by Kenneth Rexroth
photograph by flickr user cas lad.