There are no lotuses in my garden. No jungle animals. Not a single elephant or monkey or lion. But there are daylilies, and naked ladies. As well as sparrows and wrens and crows and jays. For the past year-and-a-half, I’ve lived an intermittent life beside them. My circadian rhythm slowed to a snail’s pace of eating, sleeping, eating. Come dawn I watch the heads of trumpet-shaped flowers slowly open, lifting up morning prayers: for love, for hope, for peace. For wisdom and passion and humility. For the strength to face another pandemic-laden day with bravery and grace.
penciling myself into
Le Rêve (The Dream) by Henri Rousseau (1910)
holds an MFA in the translation of poetry from the University of Arkansas. She recently
had the privilege of editing and publishing a pandemic-themed anthology, Behind
the Mask: Haiku in the Time of Covid-19, through her small literary press,
Singing Moon. The first collection of her own poetry, Prayer for the Dead:
Collected Haibun & Tanka Prose, received a 2017 Merit Book Award from
the Haiku Society of America.
Her food and travel articles and her poems appear in national and international
anthologies and journals, including publications specializing in Japanese
short-form poetry such as: Contemporary Haibun Online; Haibun Today;
Journeys 2015: An Anthology of International Haibun; Tanka 2020; The Red Moon
Anthology of English-Language Haiku (2012-2013); and The Red River Book
Additional work is included in Bearing the Mask: Southwestern Persona Poems
(Dos Gatos), Ain’t Gonna Be Treated This Way (Village Press), Red
Earth Review, and The Texas Poetry Calendar.