Welcome to the March 2017 issue of brass bell. This is the second annual issue dedicated to poetry by women. In celebration of International Women's Day (March 8), and National Women's History Month in the U. S., we write in honor of women and girls everywhere.
You will notice the way some themes and references appear in more than one haiku, like threads connecting women to one another.
Poems have been received from Australia, Brazil, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Italy, Poland, Singapore, Sri Lanka, Sweden, the U. K. and the United States
catching up
with a girlfriend
summer clouds
- Agnes Eva Savich
spring cleaning —
the doll grandma gave me
still says "Mama"
- Angelee Deodhar
Mother's Day
she calls me by her
sister's name
- Angelee Deodhar
how sad it is
she is almost gone
and we are still unfinished
- Ann Wexler
late season snow all my yesterdays
- Anna Cates
feeling awkward
in my too-short skirt
summer's end
- Anna Maris
old diary
the rose
still red
- Aparna Pathak
guarding women's right to choose
in honor of my daughter
in your memory, mom
- Barbara Mink
centipede
her collection of mismatched
shoes
- Barbara Tate
preoccupation
counting the stars
which one is mine
- Barbara Tate
spring meadow
my daughter's hair
curls at the waist
- Caroline Skanne
wood walk
when no one listens
she sings
- Caroline Skanne
free education
mother and I learn
the alphabet
- Celestine Nudanu
in our house
the bits of family
that come unglued
- Christina Martin
sunshine —
just as her funeral bell
strikes two
- Christina Martin
distant stars
days I need to be
alone
- Christina Sng
crinkling leaves
the deepening lines
in my skin
- Christina Sng
cherry pink sunset
my dog and I
childless
- Christine L. Villa
talking with mom
about my first period
white pleated skirt
- Claire Vogel Camargo
first bra strap snap
by our male gymnastics coach
sixth grade
- Claire Vogel Camargo
long winter
the sudden white
in my hair
- Debbi Antebi
fading memories
my reflection sways
in the ripples
- Debbi Antebi
planting a Three Sisters garden every year we remember you
- Debbie Strange
the hum of bees . . .
I know every word
by heart
- Debbie Strange
runaway truck lane
all those things
I can't control
- Deborah P Kolodji
one tiny word
honey
on a warm biscuit
- Fran Helmstadter
morning frost
the farmer murmurs
to her goats
- Hannah Mahoney
Friday acupuncture
she needles a spot
called Palace of Weariness
- Hannah Mahoney
no room at the inn for a pregnant refugee
- Helen Buckingham
quantum shift
venus positions herself
over jupiter
- Jan Benson
home late —
the kiss you wanted,
the one you got
- Jan Benson
waxing moon
the quarters
in her vacuum bag
- Jennifer Hambrick
mountain fog
great-grandmother
weaves a corn shuck chair
- Jennifer Hambrick
center of the labyrinth —
my spirit guide
whispers her name
- Jill Lange
your words —
the exaggerated lies
of moonlight
- Joann Grisetti
on the train all my life the journey
- Joanna M. Weston
memories
in my backpack
sand and shells
- Joanna M. Weston
green ferns emerging
from decaying forest floor —
potential in me
- Julie Schnepel
last days
I sing her
the lullabies
- Kath Abela Wilson
the open journal
remembering being sixteen
same handwriting
- Katya Sabaroff Taylor
over coffee
she cleans her glasses
on the baby blanket
- kjmunro
girl in a blue shawl
my friend
before I even knew your name
- Laura Gates-Lupton
my daughter . . .
year by year
our roles reverse
- Madhuri Pillai
the steely grain
in her voice
the hurt she hides
- Madhuri Pillai
factory bell
taking a piece of the moon
home with her
- Malintha Perera
falling leaf —
grandma's pendulum clock
has stopped
- Maria Laura Valente
crescent moon —
my mother's smile shines
on my sister's face
- Maria Laura Valente
white chrysanthemum
who will remember me
when I'm gone
- Marta Chocilowska
melting ice
her first letter after
fifty years
- Martha Magenta
tumbleweed
the wind restyles
my hair
- Martha Magenta
i was a bluebird
in another life
following the river's path
- Marty Blue Waters
scent of mock orange —
all the years spent
doubting myself
- Mary Kendall
when i can't decide
between monkey bars and swings
tree branches beckon
- Mimi Foyle
in my best dreams i
play the piano and weave
a bridge of serpents
- Mimi Foyle
mountain peak
gazing into the distance
i postpone my descent
- Nina Kovacic (translation by Durda Vukelic Rozic)
her name tag says
hello, my name is
woman
- Pat Davis
after yesterday
trying to think well
of an old friend
- Phyllis Lee
carrying on
as if I were
not broken
- Phyllis Lee
trash day —
discarding the last
of those dratted heels
- Pris Campbell
women's day —
the younger ones carry
the torch now
- Pris Campbell
hometown park
the old seesaw wobbles
with the weight of my worry
- Rachel Sutcliffe
another year
still this scar
reminds me
- Rachel Sutcliffe
suburban road
the sound of my high heels
silences the crickets
- Rosa Clement
laundry day
the flowers of my dress
with jasmine scent
- Rosa Clement
over her apple
the toddler peers
at the munching squirrel
- Ruth Yarrow
from a flowered sofa
after an eighty hour week
her dark eyes
- Ruth Yarrow
so hard to stay still
these first warm days of spring
my sap is rising
- Sue Crowley
quarrel over —
tying knots
in a rag rug
- Theresa A. Cancro
world hijab day
blue head scarf
in the elegant wind
- Tricia Knoll
jagged craters
on the moon
my aging face
- Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
night kisses
sharing a secret
with mother
- Vibeke Laier
early morning rain
the turtle remains in its shell
so do i
- Zee Zahava
an unbusy moment eavesdropping on my own thoughts
- Zee Zahava
wave after wave
your shadow
appears and disappears
- Zuzanna Truchlewska
