poems published in literary journals and anthologies

tanka, haiku, micropoetry!

I am grateful my little words have been a published in literary journals of such beauty! I will periodically update this page as individual poems are published.

This page is limited to short poems. Additional poems, including longer free verse poems, are published on my VerseWrights page. Free verse poems have also been published in the Connecticut River Review and Snapdragon: a Journal of Art and Healing.

All writing copyright © 2014-2017 Kat Lehmann

updated mid-summer, 2016

∞∞∞∞

Akitsu Quarterly (Summer 2016)

field of suns
an overarching tree
sprouts a moon

summer rain subsiding mushroom

the moment
everything changes
sunrise

A Hundred Gourds (June 2016; AHG’s final issue)

rainstorm the toddler beats the drums

Atlas Poetica 25 (summer 2016)

an enormity
beyond comprehension
the Sun
and, larger, love
breaking the scale

canoe of a moon
sails the black sea . . .
stars like distant lighthouses
guiding the way
to unknown lands

falling up
into love
I grasp a wisp of white
like a new equilibrium
with the boundless sky

how should we give
what wasn’t received —
even a nebula
creates suns
from old stardust

one porch light
shining among the billions
the neighbors
spend the night
circling a distant star


hedgerow #69 (2016)

dormant buds
on the fingertips of branches
the moment of hope
before I leave
darkness behind

spring cherry branches the promise of pink

NeverEnding Story (Jan 2016)
translated into two Chinese languages

each of them
wants a part of me
I am Antarctica
belonging to no one
yet bearing many flags

Akitsu Quarterly (Spring, 2016)

blackbird
from a morning shadow
lifting

the simple beauty
in second hand things
moonlight

American Tanka 26 (Feb 2016)

child
sleeping soundly
I sneak back to find
the words
right where I left them

∞∞

One Man’s Maple Moon (2016; The Neverending Story); translated into Chinese

each of them
wants a part of me
I am Antarctica…
belonging to no one
yet bearing many flags

∞∞

Colorado Boulevard Poetry Corner (December, 2015); tanka and photo

standing upon
a frozen river
which way should I go
when I’m no longer carried
in one direction?

∞∞

Brass Bell (December, 2015)

night breeze
the faint scent
of an unseen lilac

∞∞

hedgerow #56 (2015; first tanka sequence published)

cobbled together
from those who still stood
our Tribe of Women
was picnics and pinochle
and afternoon pilsner

one by one
they sank into storms
now I
am what remains…
the matriarch, by default

∞∞

Moonbathing 13 (2015)

through
a murmur of stars
we sail a twilight river
the lowering sun of you
captures my moon

∞∞

tinywords 15.2 (2015)

summer sunlight
through a green lace canopy
the energy
that slips through
my imperfect plans

∞∞

The Bamboo Hut (Autumn, 2015)

constellation
the shape
of The Ten Thousand Things

The Crescent Moon
begins her story again…
open parentheses

inside I know
I once was a sun
hot flashes

first blueberry
my mind
writes a familiar poem

if I could live
in a moment
orange sun sinking

the day
clings to the Earth
like atmosphere
I wait for a night
that goes all the way up

hands on head
a measured space
for my universe to exist

the things I know
without looking
moonshadows

∞∞

hedgerow: a journal of small poems #40 (2015):

observations come in layers…
the unraveling of a river, I pick at
the thread it releases when it’s ready
a tangled string for the careful
embroidery of thoughts
words arrive with the
frolic of a bounding kitten
scurrying I pick it up and hold it close:
wet words with an unsteady beat

∞∞

hedgerow: a journal of small poems #39 (2015):

I remember the air
from the summer we met:
heavy and thick
with a new sweetness
I desired to touch

∞∞

Moonbathing 12 (2015)

braiding her hair
so wild like mine
we are women
present and future
interwoven

∞∞

Skylark 3:1 (Summer 2015)

if each raindrop
has a river in it
why can’t I remember
my moment
as a sun?

∞∞

Atlas Poetica: A Journal of World Tanka, Vol 21 (Summer 2015)

outside this house
the erratic song of wind chimes
like Brownian motion
the randomness
of beautiful moments

when I finally sat down
I still felt in motion
like a momentary insight
into the Earth
and its paradox of stillness

it could fall
either way
yet I will count
on your odd petal
loving me

∞∞

Acorn  No. 34 (Spring 2015)

the deception
of sky ceiling…
this nagging self-doubt

∞∞

hedgerow: a journal of small poems #23 (2015):

each story
sparks to the surface
in spurts
most of the time
I’m just living

∞∞

hedgerow: a journal of small poems #22 (2015):

turtle path she found her way home

(I love this deceptively simple one-line haiku. At first I think about how a turtle is slow – how long it must have taken her to find home! And then I realize that a turtle, in a sense, carries her home with her. It’s just that she didn’t realize she was already home.)

∞∞

Ribbons (Journal of the Tanka Society of America) Vol 11, No 1 (Winter 2015)

one after another
the days
of our love
fill a canyon…
raindrops

∞∞

A Hundred Gourds 4.2 (March 2015)

a comma
becomes a full stop
moonshadows

sandy beach
the happily ever after
once upon a time

ways of leaving:
the yolk of the mind
the shell of the body –
all the king’s horses
helpless

∞∞

red lights: Vol 11, No 1 (2015)

each day it slips
a slow avalanche
from chiseled peaks
my topography
eroded by the ages

∞∞

Atlas Poetica: A Journal of World Tanka, Vol 20 (Winter, 2015)

unsleeping toddler
we sing songs
about our love…
the ancient light
is finally home

blessed is the one
who finds
the bottom of the ocean
with nowhere to go
but up

highways of sky
a measureless distance
how far
I have come
the journey ahead

after I trip
on the day
the balm
in looking up –
white poppy

labyrinth of days
stretched cleanly
I wonder
what a sibling
might have said

over the cliff
of clouds
a waterfall begins –
I am a fish
breathing bubbles

evening chill
I walk
a worn path
to the winter side
of the Sun

the time I thought
the emptiness was empty
and dismissed
the air
that lets me breathe

morning house
the cat and I
speak silence
listening
to distant thunder

∞∞


hedgerow: a journal of small poems #11 (2014):

morning bird
sings its song
it knows no other song
to sing
no other bird
sings it
the world is made
beautiful
in a new way

my birth place
a distant memory —
fireflies

∞∞

hedgerow: a journal of small poems #10 (2014)

holding hands:
the moonlit woman
and the girl
with the sun in her heart —
I show myself the world

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