A Hundred Gourds 1:2, March 2012

It’s always a red letter day when a new issue of a haiku journal comes out. Last week, I was pleased to see that the latest issue of A Hundred Gourds was available to read online. This issue contained three of my haiku, and one tanka, as well as work from so many others that I have met online or at haiku conferences last year.

dripping icicles
a little less sure
of myself

dandelion breeze
a wish caught
in a spider’s web

morning meditation
an empty boat rocks
with the waves

she says I was lucky
it was caught early . . .
I rap on the window glass
to alert a robin
to the crouching cat

Mu 7s Thom Williams Memorial Contest

It is always a pleasure to discover a new haiku journal. I’m not sure how I found out about Mu, an online journal. Perhaps it was from a link on the HSA website. In any event, besides enjoying the past issues, I discovered they were holding a contest called the Mu 7s Thom Williams Memorial Contest. The only requirement for the haiku submitted, is that they had to contain seven words or less. I had no “spare” haiku laying around, as I had just fired off several submissions, so I sat down and wrote five new haiku, ranging in length from five to seven words. (I have written haiku shorter than five words, but I find it difficult to make them cohesive. So I opted to use most of the words I had allotted.)

I was thrilled to learn that one of my haiku took 3rd place. It can be read on the Mu 7s Contest page, along with a thoughtful discussion of it.

More December Journal Releases

December seems to be the month for new journal releases! First there was A Hundred Gourds, then The Heron’s Nest, Sketchbook, and now Notes from the Gean. The latter has been completely overhauled, and is full of essays and interviews, as well as haiku, tanka, haiga, and haibun. I know what I will be doing this weekend (and probably next weekend, and the weekend after that too!)

Two of my haiku appear (on page 33) in this issue:

winter garden
my father’s books
mixed in with mine

snowshoe hare
his footsteps
too big to fill