• Strange, Debbie

  • Susan Constable

    filling a patch of blue –
    sudden squall

    rising tide
    a blue heron lifts
    the dawn

    autumn rain . . .
    and still the creek
    is silent

    a cloud
    drifts across the moon
     . . . autumn chill

    melting snow
    the first daffodil
    turns to the sun

    Susan Constable has been writing and publishing Japanese forms of poetry in both print magazines and on-line journals since 2006. In 2010, she received first place in the Porad Haiku Contest, third in the Tanka Society of America Contest, and a Sakura Award at the Vancouver Cherry Blossom Haiku Festival. She lives with her husband on Canada's beautiful west coast. 

  • Susan Constable

    like question marks
    bee stings cover my legs
    each welt asking
    what I did that summer
    to make my father angry

    below the feeder
    a few grey feathers
    flutter in the wind ---
    over new fallen snow
    your whispered apology

    no moon
    when the doorbell rang
    that autumn night
    the stars went out one by one
    and our world turned black

  • Susan Constable

    just how much you know
    about me ---
    one Babushka doll
    inside another

    snow flurries
    blur the edge of my garden
    as night descends
    the word dementia swirls
    then settles in my mind

    a yellow crocus
    opens to the morning sun ---
    in the waiting room
    a woman's warm hello
    hangs in icy silence

  • The Offering

    I can hear someone moaning like a dog who has been hit by a car on the side of a highway. My pain has now overwhelmed me, and despite being in a fog, I can grasp that it is coming from me.


    a nurse
    carefully opening up
    about mistakes

  • The Search

    Very seldom do I meet with a friend now, when at some point they don't ask how I remain positive, despite what I've been through. When I reply that no one can be all the time, still they persist.


    under the moon
    the fishermen
    still digging for worms

  • Veronika Zora Novak

    re-inventing the sound of sky starlings

     Failed Haiku #37

  • Veronika Zora Novak


    the only
    solace tonight


    in the woods
    I fall into the glow
    of fireflies


    little moth
    is it moondust you leave
    on my window sill?


    casting nets
    to catch the stars
    lone fisherman


    out of
    a butterfly's dream . . .


    old pond . . .
    a turtle slips into


    moon bathing
    I slip into the stars
    of my kimono


  • Veronika Zora Novak

    embroidered in the emperor's clothes temple bells


  • Veronika Zora Novak 

  • Veronika Zora Novak

    becoming autumn
    the voice of the mountain

    Akitsu Quarterly Winter Issue 2018


  • Veronika Zora Novak

    miscarriage . . .
    cherry blossoms hung heavy
    with snow

    Mainichi Press on March 11, 2020.


  • Veronika Zora Novak

    rooted in mud
    sister lotus
    teach me the Dao
    of blossoms


    the music
    of a billion stars
    a sitar's mind
    becomes the heartbeat
    of this and the other world

  • Water Bugs

    lap after lap
    at the YMCA, an old man
    stroking time

    face down
    in the shallow end
    the drowning
    of these dreams

    water bugs!
    the stream alive
    with kids!*

    moss-slicked rocks
    she grips
    her mother’s hand

    night fishing
    in weed

    catch and release
    a hook pricks
    my conscience

    camp out …
    the lake plays host
    to starlight

    back to school
    the outdoor pool
    full of leaves

    *after Issa