school holidays
in the empty yard
flame tree blossoms

_{—Tuyet Van Do, Australia}

peach iced tea
a wasp determined
to have its fill

_{—Deborah Karl-Brandt, Germany}

summer heat i become the mirage

_{—Mona Bedi, India}

communing over the fence summer squashes

_{—Julie Schwerin, United States}

About

Tuyet Van Do lives in Melbourne, Australia. She loves poetry and writes whenever inspiration strikes. Her work has been widely published in various journals and anthologies. She was nominated for the Touchstone Award for Individual Poems (2022, 2025), and was the winner of The Irmo Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Contest (2025).

Leon Tefft is a poet and author of Wild Orchids, Haiku Evolution and Haiku Traditions from Greenville, South Carolina. He is a member of the Haiku Society of America and the Tanka Society of America. You can see more of Leon’s work and connect with him at leontefft.com.

Louise Hopewell is an Australian poet and playwright based in Naarm/Melbourne. When not writing, Louise can be found riding her bicycle or playing ukulele.

Deborah Karl-Brandt works as an author, editor, and educator. Her poems have been published widely, and several have won awards. In 2025, she was selected as a fellow at Confluence. Her new book, Wild Rabbit Moon, was published in 2026.

Mona Bedi is a medical doctor in Delhi, India. Her haiku and senryu have been published in many journals of repute.She has received many awards.

Mircea Moldovan lives in the village of Letca, Romania. He has been writing haiku since 2021, having been published in numerous journals. He has won several international competitions, and have received mentions.

Julie Schwerin (she/her) is an associate editor at The Heron’s Nest (www.theheronsnest.com) and a member of the Red Moon Anthology Editorial team. Her first full-length collection of haiku, “fencing with the moon”, is now available through Finishing Line Press.

← Previous | Back to Issue | Next →

heatwave
a mannequin posing
in her bathing suit

_{—Keiko Izawa,Japan}

heatwave —
call of landing gulls
ride the breeze

_{—Sheikha A., United Arab Emirates}

About

Keiko Izawa lives on a hilltop in Yokohama, Japan with her husband and two cats. She enjoys watching foreign ships come in and out of port.

Jahnavi Gogoi is an Ontario based poet and writer. She dabbles in Japanese forms of poetry and identifies as a storyteller.

Geethanjali Rajan teaches Japanese and English in Chennai. She is the author of a book of haikai forms, longing for sun longing for rain (2023) and the coauthor (with Sonam Chhoki) of Unexpected Gift (2021). She edits haiku at cattails and at Café Haiku.

Sheikha A. is a Pushcart and Rhysling nominee from Pakistan and United Arab Emirates. Her poetry appears in a variety of literary venues and has been translated into 11 languages so far. More about her can be found at sheikha82.wordpress.com

Nancy Brady is a pharmacist by vocation and a haiku poet by avocation. Now retired, she volunteers her time at a nature preserve and working part-time at her local Board of Elections.

Paul Callus is a retired teacher who lives in Malta, Europe. He has been active in the literary field for around 50 years. He writes poetry, short stories, and lyrics for songs, mostly in English, Maltese, and Italian.

Steliana Cristina Voicu is a Romanian poet and writer in a variety of genres. She has published haiku, haiga, tanka, poetry, and short prose in more than 40 periodicals and anthologies. A Touchstone Award–nominated poet. She is the founder and editor of the online Enchanted Garden Haiku Journal.

Louise Hopewell is an Australian poet and playwright based in Naarm/Melbourne. When not writing, Louise can be found riding her bicycle or playing ukulele.

← Previous | Back to Issue | Next →

A haiku Canopy of Jasmine

carpet of parijat –
orange stems
of a childhood sky

_{—Vishal Prabhu, India}

open window —
a night jasmine trails in
with the moon

_{—Rupa Anand, India}

flower market
i haggle over a wilted
jasmine gajra

_{—Jahnavi Gogoi, Canada}

About

Bombay-born, US-educated, Vishal Prabhu has since taken time off to stand and stare. He lives in the Himalayas.

Louise Hopewell is an Australian poet and playwright based in Naarm/Melbourne. When not writing, Louise can be found riding her bicycle or playing ukulele.

Leon Tefft is a poet and author of Wild Orchids, Haiku Evolution and Haiku Traditions from Greenville, South Carolina. He is a member of the Haiku Society of America and the Tanka Society of America. You can see more of Leon’s work and connect with him at leontefft.com.

Rupa Anand is a spiritual seeker turned poet. She is a Pushcart Prize (haiku), Red Moon Anthology (haibun) and Touchstone Award (haiku), nominated and long-listed poet. She lives in New Delhi, finding peace in writing for and about cancer, and of course the wildlife she encounters in her environment.

Geethanjali Rajan teaches Japanese and English in Chennai. She is the author of a book of haikai forms, longing for sun longing for rain (2023) and the coauthor (with Sonam Chhoki) of Unexpected Gift (2021). She edits haiku at cattails and at Café Haiku.

Mona Bedi is a medical doctor in Delhi, India. Her haiku and senryu have been published in many journals of repute.She has received many awards.

Jahnavi Gogoi is an Ontario based poet and writer. She dabbles in Japanese forms of poetry and identifies as a storyteller.

Neena Singh is a Touchstone shortlisted poet & Editor who loves penning Japanese short forms of poetry as also haibun, tanka prose, haiga & rengay.

← Previous | Back to Issue | Next →

Editor’s Note – Issue 2

—Bhawana Rathore

 | Back to Issue | Next →

bassinet
basking in basil . . .
balmy breeze

_{—Monica Kakkar, India and USA}

lakeside camping
we skim stone after stone
into the stars

_{—Chen-ou Liu, Canada}

blooming an ocean apart African violet

_{—Biswajit Mishra, Canada}

sunlit rain
unceasing trill
from a far off hedge

_{—Tim Dwyer, Northern Ireland/USA}

About

Monica Kakkar (she/her/hers) values her freedom and peace. Two of her haiku have been nominated for The Haiku Foundation’s 2025 Touchstone Award for Individual Poems. A haiku suite has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize 2026.

Julie Schwerin (she/her) is an associate editor at The Heron’s Nest (www.theheronsnest.com) and a member of the Red Moon Anthology Editorial team. Her first full-length collection of haiku, “fencing with the moon”, is now available through Finishing Line Press.

Jerome Berglund has published haiku, haiga, haibun, most recently in bottle rockets, Frogpond, Presence. His collections Bathtub Poems, Funny Pages and Eleusinian Solutions were released by Setu, Meat For Tea and Mōtus Audāx press, a chapbook showcasing his fine art photography is available now from Fevers of the Mind.

Chen-ou Liu is the author of five books, including Following the Moon to the Maple Land (First Prize, 2011 Haiku Pix Chapbook Contest) and A Life in Transition and Translation (Honorable Mention, 2014 Turtle Light Press Biennial Haiku Chapbook Competition). His tanka and haiku have been honored with many awards.

Biswajit Mishra is a bilingual poet writing mostly in English and occasionally in Odia. His poems have been published internationally in magazines. Born in India and having spent a few years in Kenya, Biswajit and his wife Bharati currently live in Calgary, Canada

Jahnavi Gogoi is an Ontario based poet and writer. She dabbles in Japanese forms of poetry and identifies as a storyteller.

Tim Dwyer’s Accepting The Call (templarpoetry.com), won the Straid Collection Award. In 2025 he was among the Europe Top 100 Haiku Authors. His poetry appears in Irish, UK and international journals. Originally from Brooklyn, NY, he lives in Bangor, Northern Ireland.

← Previous | Back to Issue | Next →

A Darkness No Star Can Melt Births a New Dawn

Like that day, the storm was on. The only difference was that the storm was happening only outside. Sweeping in a demonic wave, it erased the memories’ vestige of calm, with a shadowy flounce over the dark jade deep. Gusty winds stirred up caravans of dust, cloaking all in a haze. Moats of dirt gathered around every object—both living and nonliving. Akin to a super fast train arrowing through, the heavy axe of the blast hewed tree branches and leaves fell, too.

A clamorous wind blew in, while silver lances tossed in the sky, and almost uprooted the black plum tree before our eyes. It leaned forward, lowering its towering height; stretching out its hands east and west, whining in vain for a peaceful rest; continued to bend its neck; and drooping its branches, almost pressed against the ground. We were like turtles upturned, their world upside down, unable to right themselves, or flip back onto their feet. There appeared an ecstatic crowd of humans, their voices in clanging flight. Their arms winged with victory over the salubrious tree that was delimbed, its only fault being encroachment on territories the humans called their own.

Similar to a struck frog, we convulsed but never cried in pain. Our faces grave white, our attire like white flower wreaths, feeling the teeth of soreness scraping our peace within, while we awaited an awakening the souls did retreat.

We don’t know when the storm inside perished, leaving us vacuous and impassive. A solemn slumber captivated us that forgot to vex, to burn in distress. Invisible manacles clanked on our immobile hands.

For long, the tree remained in a benumbed state—no chirping of birds, no visitation of bees, no hugging of squirrels could release the unease, loosen the tensed wire that remained suspended within.

The gale had let wild man-of-war birds and falcons free—flapping wide wings and gnawing on the unrelenting pain. Down in the treacherous abyss of our minds, death held its flag alive. A strong blow to our health, a threat to our continuance, was on. In our desolate houses were heard the enduring, pensive children’s tireless pleas to climb onto life’s lap, leaving unvoiced sobbing surfs of threnody.

The supersonic blow tried its utmost to deracinate the tree. It survived the wallop, twisting and curving in positions never seen, unfamiliar to believe. Perhaps the rule of life is to go on, irrespective of the frozen memories—which remain like a bone stuck in the esophagus, refusing to let go—that resolve never to thaw again.

On the following day, the tree seemed lighter than usual—displaced by the squall, slanted at about 60 degrees to the vertical. Its tensed branches were at ease, stirring gently in the summer zephyr. A few days later, the hardened discomfort lessened. From the limbless, white-embattled branches once bitten by foes, gorgeous, fiery new leaves sprouted from within to exhibit pageantry that fit the common, dreadless days ahead.

The Paintku Project

H aikuists have long been inspired by paintings, yet there is no formal framework for approaching this practice without confusing it with related poetic forms such as haiga or photo-haiku. To address this gap, the author started The Paintku Project on her Bluesky account, from which some of the Paintku serve as examples supporting newly established guidelines for this emerging genre.

As the name suggests, a Paintku is a noun combining painting with the suffix -ku, signaling the fusion of this visual art and haiku. However, defining it simply as “a haiku inspired by a painting” is too vague. A Paintku should be understood as a haiku inspired by a painting in its entirety, or by one or more of its motifs, compositional elements, or other constituent features. Through engagement with these elements, a Paintku seeks to capture the essence of the painting’s primary theme, one or more subthemes, a prevailing emotional atmosphere, or another distinct and meaningful aspect of the artwork.

For example, the first painting addressed in the project was Norman Rockwell’s Freedom of Speech (1943), which inspired the Paintku:

The fundamental rule for writing a successful Paintku is that it must not merely describe the painting. Instead, it should contribute new insight through careful engagement with the work. This insight may illuminate an emotional absence:

(A Paintku about Pablo Picasso’s Guernica, 1937.)

A Paintku must function as a standalone poem, distinct from the painting itself and clearly separable from haibun, photo-haiku, or ekphrastic description.

A second guiding principle is stylistic correspondence: the language and approach of a Paintku should, when possible, resonate with the aesthetic qualities of the painting. Minimalist works may invite spare, restrained language, while a Cubist painting may justify fragmentation or syntactic tension. For instance, Pierre-Auguste Renoir’s Dance at Le Moulin de la Galette (1876), with its fleeting, light-filled Impressionist style, inspired the Paintku:

Here, the soft sounds and rhythm of the haiku echo the painting’s lively, ephemeral atmosphere.

Ultimately, The Paintku Project seeks to establish basic guidelines for this new poetic form, foster a community of poets interested in combining visual art with haiku, and create a unique dialogue around paintings. By engaging deeply with artworks in poetic form, participants can notice subtleties, themes, and emotional nuances that might otherwise be overlooked, enriching both their understanding of art and their own poetic practice.

Nalini

a lone flower
stands tall
much like my mother

all through her life
a determined bloom !

awake alone to the year’s first morning sun.

in the mirror
this familiar stranger …
a burst of birdsong

THE DIGITAL AGE

No one makes
time to stare

at nothing
these days

we don’t make nothing.
Nothing does.

It is the time
that un-makes us all