Laurels #1

February 2024

Richard L. Matta, editor


Welcome

Welcome to the inaugural issue of Laurels, the Tanka Society of America’s new members-only online journal. As the first guest editor, I chose the theme “a makeover: finding beauty in the broken.” Members from nine countries—through their own kintsugi lenses—responded to the theme with wonderful and varied poems, and I chose fifty for publication. These poetic renderings, arranged by each poet’s first name, range from addressing the power of persistence and courage in pressing through hardship to finding beauty through imagination. One shape poem might give spider-fearing readers shivers, while several others reflect on avoiding the trap of a fixed way of looking at people, places, and things. Thank you to all poets who responded. I’ll end with this quote from Albert Camus: “In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.”

 

Richard L. Matta

 

 

 

 

again, I pull weeds

those nutrient-sucking

water-gulping invaders

but for one with a blue flower

the color of sky

 

Adelaide B. Shaw

Somers, New York

 

 

 

 

after months

of an empty carpet,

a small brown dog

curled where my white darling lay—

learning this replacement

 

Amelia Fielden

Wollongong, Australia

 

 

around and round

a vulture’s vigilance

circling fresh offal

albeit how artful

is the grace of its glide

 

an’ya

Florence, Oregon

 

 

among the cuttings

of lavender and roses

a wish bone twig―

I grab both ends

and pull

 

Barbara Sabol

Akron, Ohio

 

 

leukemia—

keeping notes

on a child’s courage

so someday she knows

a true hero

 

Betsy Hearne

Urbana, Illinois

 

 

a billow

of pollen on the breeze . . .

unfurling

to the dance’s rhythm

i become the flower

 

Carole Harrison

Jamberoo, Australia

 

 

gracefully                    stretching

             into   the   silence . . .

                     one by one

           the    faint    shadow

of     thick    hairy     spider      legs

 

C. X. Turner

Birmingham, United Kingdom

 

 

fly, don’t hover

too close—

there’ll be plenty of time

to buzz around

my corpse

 

Cynthia Anderson

Yucca Valley, California

 

 

dandelions

dot the neglected lawn

bright harbingers

of prairie flowers’

return

 

David Chandler

Chicago, Illinois

 

 

an angry dog

battered and abandoned

eyes locked on mine

that moment no one saw

two injured spirits intertwined

 

David Lee Hill

Bakersfield, California

 

 

 

 

my first

spring stroll without you

         the bitter bite

         of a late frost sweetened

         by plum blossom breeze

 

Billie Dee

San Miguel, New Mexico

 

 

 

 

lying on this bed

of sun-warmed moss

and lichen,

I imagine myself

a fruiting body

 

Debbie Strange

Winnipeg, Manitoba

 

 

the new year still young

each day a treasure

I’ve stopped

wondering where I am

on the Bell curve of life

 

Diane Funston

Marysville, California

 

 

wet tankers

in that railway siding

stand and wait

with their graffiti

glistening, gorgeous

 

Gerry Jacobson

Canberra, Australia

 

 

darkness

between shards of ice

on the lake

an unknown flower

frozen in time

 

Jacob D. Salzer

Vancouver, Washington

 

 

the smell of manure

can wrinkle a city nose

so acrid, sharp and pungent

to someone raised on a farm

it can be sweet nostalgia

 

Jacqueline Korschun Hyman

Sawyerville, Québec

 

 

near our garden

catbirds weave a nest

and groom it often

but their snug home

has no chicks

 

Janet Ruth Heller

Portage, Michigan

 

 

forced

in winter’s depth

wafts of decay

signal the brightness

of paperwhites

 

Jon Hare

Falmouth, Massachusetts

 

 

her scars

so well hidden

mark the contours

of her beauty

of my love

 

John Tehan

Cape Cod, Massachusetts

 

 

misshapen

but still mine

re-stitched and worn

the ragged bear

with magic hugs

 

Joanna Ashwell

Barnard Castle, United Kingdom

 

 

 

 

Leonard Cohen said

the cracks let in the light

kintsugi fills

the cracks with gold . . .

which way to choose?

 

Joy McCall

Norwich, England

 

 

 

 

a suitcase full

of broken dishes

I saved them all

my first fireplace mosaic

was mixed with tears

 

Kath Abela Wilson

Pasadena, California

 

 

it’s even better

second time around . . .

friends notice

a happy lilt in my voice

and love-light in my eyes

 

Keitha Keyes

Sydney, Australia

 

 

my love, i will knit

a cocoon of golden silk

to wrap around you

this winter until the spring

reveals your metamorphosis

 

Lafcadio

Chattanooga, Tennessee

 

 

your pills on the table

cane by the chair

same blue eyes

I fell in love with—

growing old together

 

Leslie Bamford

Waterloo, Ontario

 

 

after a squall

the ocean leaves debris

driftwood, clams and cockles

carried home

to add beauty to routine

 

Linda Conroy

Bellingham, Washington

 

 

left to decay

at the garden gate

snakeskin

today I reveal

my better self

 

Margaret Tau

New Bern, North Carolina

 

 

after the wildfire

the charred eucalypt forest

a sea of green

epicormic shoots

sway in the breeze

 

Marilyn Humbert

Sydney, Australia

 

 

wearing

a kimono remodeled

from grandmother’s

I am a sakura tree

blooming for a hundred years

 

Mari Konno

Fukui, Japan

 

 

the house up the street

sagging disheveled

ignored

until a rainbow

bathed it in indigo

 

Mark Teaford

Napa, California

 

 

 

 

my agile ascent

over the porch steps

at last

a caterpillar

gets its wings

 

Mary Davila

Buffalo, New York

 

 

 

 

 

the dusty smell

of an antique store

an old toy

from my childhood

calls to me

 

Mel Goldberg

Ajijic, Jalisco, Mexico

 

 

the plaque on the courthouse

by the town square

records the high water mark

as if we might one day learn

how to love again

 

Michael Dylan Welch

Sammamish, Washington

 

 

kintsugi

Grandma’s tea cup

carelessly broken

carefully mended

beautifully scarred

 

Michael Flanagan

Hamilton, New York

 

 

a used copy

of Huckleberry Finn

highlighted in yellow

someone else’s thoughts

about what is important

 

Michael Ketchek

Rochester, New York

 

 

a strange beauty

in the way he glides

down the hallway

the balding macrocephalic

with those vacant fawn eyes

 

Michael H. Lester

Los Angeles, California

 

 

surely bent

but still serviceable

he moves snow

with his old shovel

as easily as a youngster

 

Michele L. Harvey

Hamilton, New York

 

 

spider webs

interlace the treetops

after rain

crystal chandeliers

glisten in the sunlight

 

Michelle Brock

Queanbeyan, Australia

 

 

clearing

the back corner of the yard

I decide not to decide

weed

or flower

 

Peggy Hale Bilbro

Huntsville, Alabama

 

 

an ugly chunk

of live-oak firewood

curved just so

becomes a modest nude

with wide carved eyes

 

Peter Larsen

Lake View Terrace, California

 

 

 

 

pink sweater

and tarnished hoop earrings

I will always be

your favorite

cheerleader

 

Randy Brooks

Taylorville, Illinois

 

 

 

  

swept up

by the autumn wind

a maple leaf

pinwheels

in the spider’s web

 

Rick Jackofsky

Rocky Point, New York

 

 

grandma

was a fearless wing walker

who married

a well-known snake charmer

such tales she made up for us

 

Roberta Beach Jacobson

Indianola, Iowa

 

 

teary-eyed

the sun a bright orange ball

such beauty

from forest fires raging

hundreds of miles away

 

Robert Erlandson

Birmingham, Michigan

 

 

leafing through old pictures

full of our young smiles

I caress the frayed edges

will your fingers smooth them out

these lines that mark our years

 

Suraja Menon Roychowdhury

Lexington, Massachusetts

 

 

how I persist

despite your attempts

to keep me down . . .

a dandelion growing

in a sidewalk crack

 

Susan Burch

Hagerstown, Maryland

 

 

a grass spider

backs into the funnel

of her web . . .

the mysteries within

our hidden selves

 

Susan Weaver

Allentown, Pennsylvania

 

 

a broken shell

glued to a piece

of sea glass

becomes the fin of a fish

that birthed an artist

 

Tim Cremin

Andover, Massachusetts

 

 

a rough scholar’s rock

sculptured for a waterfall

spoke clearly to me

healing my wounded soul

and bringing me needed peace

 

William Kerr

New York, New York

  

 

 

 

too wild for blue

to paint a clear horizon

rolling waves

carry our dreams

our stories from afar

 

Xenia Tran

Nairn, Scotland