birdsong
takes the sting
out of ruined silk

• • Abby Kavanaugh

baby's first Thanksgiving
throwing turkey
at her Daddy

• • • • Lea Evers

I chose this one because I can just see my 2 year old niece doing this when she was younger. Especially since she was only 2 months old at her first Thanksgiving. Alicia Scott

bobber glistens
in the afternoon sun—
sleeping redneck

• • • • • • Rick Bearce

I chose to write about this haiku because I like that it approaches fishing from a different direction and doesn't say it outright. The fact that the bobber on the water is the first thing that you see, allows you to know what is going on without a blatant statement. I also love the final image of the fisherman sleeping. He obviously hasn't gotten a bite in awhile. Katie Steimann

walking through
the woods alone
ah . . . a mushroom!

• • • • • Jenn Van Natta

at the party
we finally talk
it only took six months

• • • Katie Steimann

hot breath
against my neck . . .
whispered pet name

• • Joanne Weise

chocolate martinis
with the girls
boyfriends at home

before the concert
we sneak into the men's room
to pee

• Katie Steimann

peeing behind a bush
aware of my sound
people walk by

• • Emily Evans

the bartender
cleans up
where no one has been

• • • Jenn Van Natta

i chose this haiku to respond on because it opened a situation in my mind. there is a lot in this haiku, but said very subtly. the author was obviously observing the bartender... but was the author alone, and therefore had no one to talk to, so therefore watching the bartender? Was the bartender bored, and cleaning everything? Maybe it was a slow night, and the author is one of the only people in the bar? There are great undertones in this haiku, with enough empty space for questions. It is observant, and has a sabi sense of loneliness. The money you paid for a beer was worth the creation of this poem. Emily Evans

the open window
lets in the bird song
at dawn

• • Nichole Johnson

moonlight enters
the open window
passing street sweeper

• • • Rick Bearce

garage sale:
watching him choose
my dinner plates

• • • Emily Evans

This one is my favorite of this kukai. I absolutely love garage sales, but it's a much different twist to think of what the item(s) you're about to buy meant to someone long ago. Maybe the meaning is still there, maybe it's not, but either way, the ones having the garage sale are watching a piece of themselves be sold away. Wonderful image. Joanne Weise

I love this haiku because of the sentimentality I feel from it. The person is selling plates they thought meant nothing to them, but maybe realizes when someone else wants them that they shouldn't be getting rid of them... but too late now! It has a calm feeling about it also... I picture this happening very slowly; the words even read slowly. Jenn Van Natta

on the calendar
the x's are taking over
December

• • • • Nichole Johnson

cigarette break
the gossip
catches her breath

• Regan Bledsaw

orange cones
dotting the highway . . .
detour home

• Joanne Weise

Santa ho ho's
and on his lap
the little girl cries

• Nichole Johnson

almost ready
for their Christmas photo
three dogs chew their sweaters

• • • • • • • Regan Bledsaw

This haiku reminds me of my mother. We have three hunting dogs who have become more like house dogs the older they get. Last Christmas, my mom insisted that I put one of those reindeer antler headbands on each dog and take a picture to send the relatives or put in Christmas cards. Needless to say, the dogs were not terribly thrilled about the antlers. The whole idea of the dogs in sweaters to be photographed reminds me of something my mom would do to our dogs. Rick Bearce

my father
home for the holidays
in a tiny urn

• • Lea Evers

light touches
the folded flag
hidden in a dusty drawer

• • • Lea Evers

I really like this haiku. It manages to convery so much sadness without saying it directly. I see the flag as being the one given to a family of a fallen soldier. It's kept and grieved over, but finally put into the drawer as the family tries to move on. But everyonce in a while, the drawer gets opened and when it does, it reminds the family of their gried. It's a very beautiful haiku. Nichole Johnson

resting on the sidewalk
mistaken for a bum
he hands me loose change

• • • • Emily Evans

you never knew I watched you
leave your goodbye
letter on the counter

• • • Regan Bledsaw

This is one of my favorites out of this kukai. It’s so emotionally charged, you can’t help but be drawn into the haiku. You can really envision the scene. A boyfriend leaving the words that he’s too upset to say out loud. Not being at all surprised by his cover up prior to that moment. Watching but not interrupting. It’s so true about relationships. When you’ve gone as far as either of you can in the relationship, and both sides realize it, there’s nothing more to do but grieve and go on separately. So many images packed into such a powerful little haiku. Beautiful. Abby

surrounded by family
but alone
forever and always

• • Alicia Scott

opening the blinds
I smile
and rumple my bed hair

• • • • Abby Kavanaugh

in the bar
re-enacting
our first kiss

• • • • Jenn Van Natta

a flag slowly lowers
silence broken
by those few sad notes

• • • Alicia Scott

Christmas morning
Grandpa’s stocking
hung but empty

• • • • Rick Bearce

Japan House Tea Ceremony Haiku
kg = selected by Professor Kimiko Gunji, Director of the Japan House, Urbana, Illinois

at the tea ceremony
turning the bowl
to show respect

• Katie Steimann

winter evening . . .
warm bowl of tea
lifted to my heart

• kg Randy Brooks

simple tea bowl
a hundred hands
cradled its warmth

• • • • • • • kg Emily Evans

smooth yet precise motions
bowing with respect
honored tradition

in the small tea room
I remember
my childhood

• • Katie Steimann

without a word
friends smile, bow
warm green tea

kg Emily Evans

whisking the tea
in an ancient bowl . . .
no hurry, no worry

• Randy Brooks

cleaning the spoon
cloth catches tea dust
and thoughts

• • • Emily Evans

before, after
the tea ceremony
eight tatami mats

• • Randy Brooks

something has happened here. but it looks the same. just like returning to an airport. great realization. Emily Evans

slowly preparing tea
night falls—
unnoticed

• • • • kg Emily Evans

bowing to enter
the tea hut
one behind another

• • Randy Brooks

she bows
giving me permission
to drink the warmth

• Katie Steimann

quietly watching
precise movements,
aged through tradition

• Lea Evers

tokonoma haiku . . .
clouds go, clouds come,
froth in the bowl

• • kg Randy Brooks

release of emotion,
sudden calm
lying on a tatami mat