Haiga im Focus - April 2026 / Curated by Claudia Brefeld

 

The Kyoto x Haiku Project / Writing on the “Peace” / Écrire sur la « Paix » / 「平和」を詠む

  

 crane flocks – weapons standing / at ease 

2

 open door / by the whirlwind of leaves / mom calls them children 

3

 military trenches – a whiff of hot apple pie / from across the border 

4

war echoes – baby’s first walk / through the wild mint 

5

ticklish times – mending lady liberty / with sticky tape  6  burnt orchard / flying starlings scatter / cherry pits  7  hatching eggs / caught in the crossfire / the mother bird

民句 folk ku journal / Issue 6: trees

Jodie Hawthorne

King River Press - owner, publisher, editor

 

 

 

leafless trees -
mom's shadow shivers
hanging by the cane

Kokako 44, a Haiku Journal based in Aotearoa NZ,

 

The scent of shadows

How fragrant is the cemetery fence! Long ago, mother wove it with climbing flowers. It’s not very relaxing to live nearby. Every day, the bell reminds you about death. Sometimes, the gravediggers laugh and no matter what your  mood  is, a  thought always flies over this fence. But children don’t feel like this, they tell each other stories by the roadside to while away the time until mom will come home again. To them, death is a honeysuckle-scented garden.

mother’s portrait –

ink is running down

the right eye

Creative Inspirations / Poetry publication March / April 2026

GPS failure –
on their well known way
the man, the tree
*
one robot, two, three...
the scent of spring,
ever more wasted
*
man in the woods –
the stag roar vanishing
in its own echo

Cantos: A Literary and Arts Journal

 

Société littéraire de Laval - Canada - Revue Entrevous 30, février 2026

 

TRIYA, a bilingual journal of haiku, tanka and micro poems, Feb. 2026

 Editor’s Note

 

 

spring celebration -

birds returning to their nests

except for the peace dove

~ Lavana Kray

 

This haiku by Lavana Kray does more than capture a seasonal moment. It speaks to the poignancy of absence. In its delicate balance of presence and absence, homecoming and exile, this haiku distills the ache of what is missing into a single, unforgettable stroke. Look out for Lavana’s haiku, beautifully transformed into a haiga in the haiga section, and discover the poet’s story behind its creation.

Teji Sethi

 

 HAIGA NO.2

 

Haiga im focus, Februar 2026

 Curated by Claudia Brefeld

 

 

GINYU HAIKU GALLERY 108 / DECEMBER 2025. SELECTED AND COMMENTED BY BAN'YA NATSUISHI

 

a stat ploaia -

copii jucând badminton

peste sârma-nghimpată

 

the rain is over -

children playing badminton

over the barbed wire 

 

2

rachete, drone -

bătrânul distilează

livada cu pruni

 

rockets, drones...

the old man distilling

his plum orchard

 

3

orfan de război -

căutând spirit pereche

prin pădure

 

war orphan -

searching for a kindred spirit

in the woods 

 

4 

 

lucrări de toamnă –

doi orbiți de putere

împart pământul

 

autumn field work –

two power driven men

divide the earth

 

5

 

club 50 plus –

alte condoleanțe,

aceleași fursecuri

 

club 50 plus –

different condolences,

same snacks

 

6

drum lung înainte –

la capăt de tunel, bănci

fără picioare

 

long way ahead –

at the end of the tunnel

benches with no legs

 

7 

se aude coasa –

m-aș salva înmugurind,

dac-aș fi floare

the sound of a scythe –

if I were a flower, I would save

myself by budding

Songbirds Waka Anthology 2026

 

dry flowers -

whispering I might leave 

tomorrow 

a last cup of water 

on the windowsill for you

ASAHI HAIKUIST NETWORK/ David McMurray

old songs--
two boots, filled with snow,
by her door

 

HAIGA IM FOCUS , Cureted by CLAUDIA BREFELD

 

The Pan Haiku Review 6th Edition / Editor: Alan Summers

watching the train dwindle –
how do cranes know
the right time to leave?

Contemporary haibun 21.3 - Haiga Gallery

 

LOTHLORIEN POETRY JOURNAL, November 2025

 EDITOR: STRIDER MARCUS JONES

 

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

 

Twisted destiny

The more people she surrounded herself with, the more enticing solitude became, and so she left. After years, I’m going to look for her. My path clings to the river and turns inland, to wear away into a sea of sand with burdock flowers, and scarlet dragonflies on its crests. Atop an old lighthouse, two storks chop up the sky. While looking for a house, I come across a simple shelter. In a mollusk shell, a trace of ash. Destiny darkened by the glowing sands.

inner cold –

to make a fire or a ladder

of the dry tree

 

 

                              Paraphernalia

This nun village has spread around the monastery as myrrh on a forehead. Some scent of incense shrouds me, as a door opens and an old green-eyed woman beckons me into her room filled up with icons and jam jars. By the window, a coffin which she bought in her 20s, according to custom, when she joined this community. As I wonder silently, she smiles, lifts the coffin lid and takes out a bottle of water and a few walnuts for me: Never know how long you have to go.

enforced night –

by the hollow window

a rope ladder