The Haiku Foundation, re: Virals, July 2026

re: Virals 565 - July 24, 2026

The Haiku Foundation's weekly poem commentary feature on some of the finest haiku ever written in English. This week's poem was chosen by Jennifer Gurney (thank you, Jennifer):

https://thehaikufoundation.org/revirals-565/

tidal surge this wave of something unutterable

Haiku Girl Summer, July 2, 2026

New Zealand Poetry Society International Poetry Competition, 2026

My thanks to Graham Bates, the judge of this contest!

the silence

of Candlemas bells . . .

final chemo

3rd Place

Judge's Commentary:

Commonly known as snowdrops, these bulbs got their nickname through their Northern Hemisphere bloom time aligning with the Christian festival of Candlemas. They tell us that it is late winter or early spring, and are associated with purification, light and hope, which in this haiku is also the hope of a successful treatment and recovery. The silence could be an eerie one, but it also brought to mind Thomas Merton's exploration of the concept of silence as the ultimate form of prayer.

shed antlers

bleached by the sun . . .

grandfather's hands

Commended

Judge's Commentary:

Antlers are shed in late winter and early spring, but these must have spent a long time out in the sun to turn chalky white, like the grandfather's arthritic hands with poor circulation, whose fingers struggle to fully open. Of course, antlers, in deer, are associated with masculinity, but these hands cannot be shed and regrown, though they may at times feel as useless as those shed antlers.

Our Best Haiga: Black and White Haiga/Haisha, August 2026

 Curated by Lavana Kray

August 6, 2026: "fan" feature

(note: this haiku was included in the 16th Yamadera Basho Contest Selected Haiku Collection, 2024)

Our Best Haiga: Black and White Haiga/Haisha, July 2026

 Curated by Lavana Kray

July 6, 2026: "cobweb" feature

(note: this haiku first appeared in Akitsu Quarterly, Winter 2018)

July 13, 2026: Honoured that this haiga was selected as one of the best haiga/haisha submitted in July!

(note: this tanka first appeared in Presence 72, March 2020)

Wales Haiku Journal, Summer 2026

lemon pips the one that got away

Tsuri-doro: A Small Journal of Haiku and Senryu, Issue #34, July/August/September 2026

the tip

of a leveret's tongue . . .

school recess

Triya Mag: Monsoon Edition, July/August 2026

Translated into Hindi

Honoured to have the following haiku selected as Editor's Choice:

cloudfall

mother's face softens

into sleep

Acorn, Number 56, Spring 2026

Commentary by Teji Sethi:

This haiku achieves its subtle power through contrast. The fragment, cloudfall suggests heaviness, thunder, and the forceful descent of rain. Yet in the very next phrase, the image shifts to the mother's face, softening into sleep—a gesture of quiet tenderness.

This haiku by Debbie distills a moment into three lines, embodying the essence of haikai aesthetics. It carries karumi, the lightness that allows the verse to breathe and zoka, the vital energy of nature that makes the image striking. The interplay of a storm's intensity with the gentleness of rest, creates a layered resonance. It reminds us that even within life's turbulence, there is repose.

With this evocative haiku, we open the Monsoon Edition to our readers...

Also included in this edition:

distant slopes

turning blue at twilight

the soft folds

of this tweed blanket draped

around father's shoulders

Runner-up, The Linda Jeannette Ward Tanka Award

British Haiku Society Awards, 2025

Tinywords, Issue 26.1, July 2026

 

Note: this haiku first appeared in Creatrix 62, 2023

Time Haiku, Number 64, August 2026

wolfsnow the howl in it

showy milkweed

the first monarch

and the last

clouds tower

over sun-drenched fields . . .

my sister leans

from a golden turret,

letting down her hair

tuffets sprout

alongside this river . . .

the first

nursery rhyme I read

to our unborn child

rowan trees

dripping with icicles

each berry

a singular moment

frozen inside time

 

Sundog, Issue 1, July 2026

caribou bones

water bombers release

their payloads

wrack flies

a starling flock gathers

for the feast

 

Suspect Device Punkzine, Number 18, June 2026

Turning Japanese: War Crimes and Propaganda

My thanks to the editor, Tim Gardiner, for nominating the following poem for a Touchstone Award:

doomsayer

spitting out bile . . .

flecks of sea foam

The Solitary Daisy, Issue 78, July 2026

I'm grateful to the editors, Michele Rule and Sally Quon, for inviting me to submit the following award details for Random Blue Sparks!

1st Place (joint) in the 2026 Haiku Canada Marianne Bluger Book Awards

3rd Place in the 2025 Haiku Society of America Merit Book Awards

Shorlisted for a Haiku Foundation Award

Presence, Number 85, July 2026

spur trail

a once-red bandana

tied to the stump

crowded pier

legions of seagulls

fully caffeinated

unmown hay

flattened by heavy frost . . .

a small herd

of pronghorn beds down

beside the auction sign

Sakura Fubuki: Pakistan Japan Cultural Association Islamabad (PJCA), First International Multilingual Haiku Anthology, Summer 2026

Thrilled to have the following haiku included in this anthology on the theme of cherry blossoms and translated into Urdu and Japanese:

mother's passing

this fallen branch

of sakura

Mariposa, Number 54, Spring/Summer 2026

beach camp

yooperlites lead us

to the outhouse

(note: yooperlites = fluorescent rocks)

I unlock

the rust-pocked gate . . .

my world

slows down to this moment

of bees, birds, and breath

(note: this tanka was submitted and accepted with the first line as "I unlock", but published in error with the first line as "unlock")

Leaf Journal, Issue 10, August 2026

crumbling cliffs this loss more than words

seaside fireworks

herring shoals disperse

the light

4-H Club

woolly clouds fluff up

the sky

Hedgerow Poems, Number 153, 2026

brackish water

a coil of elvers migrates

upstream

Half Day Moon Journal, Issue No. 4, August 2026

siren songs more than 130 words for wind

wild gentians untwisting the prairie sky

night migration the starred tips of reindeer lichen

jisei : this cairn of smooth, black stones

(note: jisei = death poem)

Haiku Girl Summer, 2026

 Curated by Allyson Whipple

July 2, 2026 - Guest Editor, Richa Sharma

tidal surge this wave of something unutterable

beach-tumbled

the agates that will become

my earrings

July 20, 2026 - Guest Haiga Editor, Melanie Alberts 

Haiga in Focus, Issue 96, August 2026

 Curated by Claudia Brefeld

Translated into German