GINYU MAGAZINE No. 112 / HAIKU GALLERY / 2026

  Edited by  Ban’ya Natsuishi

 

pomi însângerați –

poze de familie

strânse la piept

 

bloodstained trees –

tight against the chest

family photos

2

junglă extinsă –

lider deghizat,

să pară fioros

 

extended jungle –

leader in disguise,

            to look fierce

3

zoonoză –

regele junglei,

morman de oase

 

          zoonosis –

the jungle's king,

a heap of bones

 

4

împărțind la trei

o iarnă nesfârșită –

ce bine le stă

 

dividing by three

an endless winter –

it suits them perfectly

5

să cunosc lumea,

îmi e de ajuns un ochi –

îngustimi

 

to know the world

one eye is enough –

narrowness

6

blanc emoțional –

floarea o mai uiți,

spinul, niciodată

 

emotional blank –

you may forget the flower,

but never the thorn

7

descompunere –

pomul uscat, încă util,

omul...

 

decomposition –

the dry tree, still useful,

the man...

PEBBLES 7 / PETRICHOR 31

stormy picnic  –

baby frog splashing

in the wine mug

2

the soul of clay,

in a jug, a cup, a pit –

no one is alone

Haiga im focus / October 2026

 

Micro Haibun / By Cafe Haiku on 29/09/2026

 Rustling shadows

Day after day, after day, after day, until one day…
And then, not even a day goes by and someone
(someone else) comes to clean up the place…
Few garbage bags: our memories.

rustling shadows –
an origami crane
through the shredder




Snowflake

One fine day, when you will see a single snowflake, it will not be a sign of winter coming, but of me being close to you.

Alzheimer’s –
the purest snow is nothing
but masked mud




I, you, we…

The shell that once hurt your sole, I’ve kept it ever since with me; a red drop on my neckline…
I keep trying to find my way, and as I don’t, I go back to the sea and ask about you. But the sea, pushed away by alluvial soils, is no longer where I left it.
Same as you…
Or me?

I, you, we –
some sand that settles
in the central void

Société littéraire de Laval, Canada, revue Entrevous 32 / 2026

 

 

 
HAÏKU POUR UN CESSEZ-LE-FEU

ne tirez pas !
c’est le blé qui dort
sous la neige

 

民句 folk ku journal, by King River Press / Issue 7, 2026

 

Jodie Hawthorne

King River Press - owner, publisher, editor

 

 

beach concert –

shells, seaweed, dolls

take the stage

 

stormy picnic  –

baby frog splashing

in the wine mug