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)

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

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

 

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

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")

Laurels: Tanka Society of America Online Journal, Number 6, August 2026

My thanks to guest editor Rick Jackofsky for including the following tanka on the theme of "mono no aware"!

at my feet,

cicada shells lie empty

and forlorn . . .

I miss the sound of you

singing our babies to sleep

#FemkuMag, Issue 42, Summer 2026

crushing

juniper berries between

our fingers

the scent of gin conjures

unwelcome memories

this world

is unsafe for innocents . . .

a crow

shakes its tail feathers

once, twice, three times

Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, August 2026

Featured Artist: August 2, 2026

Note: this tanka was first published in Eucalypt 39, 2025

Featured Artist: August 12, 2026

Note: this tanka was first published in Presence 83, 2025

Circle of Salt, August 2026

The Prophecy of Ravens

Quail Eggs: A Tanka Journal, Issue 5, June 2026

north winds

whipping the snowbanks

into a frenzy . . .

our dog burrows deeper

into her fireside dreams

Daily Haiku: Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, June 2026

rotted rafters

fog curdles around

the owl's call

Honourable Mention

The Robert Spiess Memorial Haiku Awards, 2026

distant slopes

turning blue at twilight

the soft folds

of this tweed blanket draped

around father's shoulders

Runner-up

The British Haiku Society Linda Jeannette Ward Tanka Award, 2025

Eucalypt, Issue 40, May 2026

fishmongers

hawk their silvery wares

on the beach

small girls gather sequins

from a mermaid's dress

 

Waka Society of America, Petals Journal (Waka in English), 2026

that afternoon

we lay together beyond

our garden wall . . .

undulating mosses still

mimic the shape of you

one window

remains in the church

where we danced

coloured shafts of light

tango with shadows

I weave

a mourning cloak on the loom

of your loss,

obsidian threads pulled from

storm clouds and starless nights

this dull ache

of yearning every autumn . . .

I recall how

the wind played with your hair,

your hands played with mine

Ribbons, Volume 22, Number 1, Spring/Summer 2026

the old oak

leans against our fence

all those times

you held me up when

I was about to fall

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

 Curated by Lavana Kray

May 16, 2026

(note: this tanka art first appeared in Ribbons 17.2, Spring/Summer 2021)

May 31, 2026: "fly" feature (included among Selected Best/Fly for May)

(note: this haiga first appeared in Haiga in Focus #67 in colour)

NeverEnding Story: Biting NOT Barking Series, May 2026

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu:

zombie fires

come back from the dead . . .

this wilderness

haunted by skeletons

and memories of trees

Blithe Spirit 35.4, 2025

Chen-ou Liu's Comments:

This tanka bridges climate science and Gothic imagery. In L1, "zombie fires," refers to overwintering peat fires that smoulder underground through freezing winters before reigniting in spring. By framing this ecological phenomenon as a literal haunting in L2, the tanka emphasizes the lingering trauma climate change inflicts upon natural landscapes.

In L4, "skeletons" operates as a powerful double entendre, evoking both charred tree trunks and traditional images of the dead. L5, "memories of trees," deepens the sense of grief and absence, suggesting ecosystems that survive only as traces or recollections. Nature is irrevocably altered: the once-living forest has become a graveyard of skeletons that refuses to rest in peace.

Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective, May 2026

 Curated by Eric A. Lohman

Featured Artist: May 11, 2026

(note: this tanka first appeared in The Art of Tanka #1, Fall/Winter 2023)

Cattails, April 2026

food insecurity

the empty throat pouch

of a nutcracker

fifth instar the nymph i once was

hospice window

the see-through skeletons

of by-the-wind sailors

shafts of light

flicker across the floor . . .

my kitten

never quite captures

her elusive enemy

The Art of Tanka, Issue 6, Spring/Summer 2026

one day

by the sea is all it takes . . .

my worries

disappear like spindrift

ribboning off every wave

 

The British Haiku Society Awards, 2025

Thrilled to receive the following award:

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

Judge's comments:

I was struck by the poet's apt use of natural imagery. The mountains are losing their shape and form as night begins to settle in. Pairing this image with the soft folds of the blanket (draped around father's shoulders) was so evocative. A fine tanka.

—Alan Peat