Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Haiku by and About Women

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

her collection of mismatched
    - Barbara Tate

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
    - Christina Sng

crinkling leaves
the deepening lines
in my skin
    - Christina Sng

cherry pink sunset
my dog and I
    - 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
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
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

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

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
    - 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