[S]yllable counting… is not the important thing for haiku in English. Haiku is an experience, not an act of counting syllables. The important thing is experiencing the ‘haiku moment’.

Patricia Donegan

in pale moonlight

the wisteria’s scent

comes from far away

Buson

the crystal marble

on the bedside table

full moon

Cor van den Heuvel

come for the blossoms

only to have money pinched

country bumpkins!

Shiki

squid ink pasta

wind the lines around my fork

word by word

Pippa Phillips

my father still works

in the subway

in me

Peter Yovu

casually

rewriting a frog

Richard Gilbert

by false pretense

cutting through temple grounds

the misty moon!

Taigi

winter sun

freezing on horseback

shadow of a priest

Bashö

bright Sunday

I arrive as pallbearer

in my hometown

Lenard D. Moore

summer moon the sky becomes you

Francine Banwarth

too big to pinch tomato worm

Robin White

on the table

with the crucifix

a skipping stone

Vincent Tripi

dusk

a loon carries

the breadth of the lake

Tom Painting

return to the garden

my Clausewitz copy

covered in blossoms

Hans Jonaman

beach glass turning seventy-five

Nancy Orr

the broken harp string

curving

into sunlight

Elizabeth Searle Lamb

Alabama farm

the scarecrow dressed

in white linen

Bruce Ross

hey! even snake gourds

become buddhas

don’t get caught behind!

Shiki

where nobody bothers wildflowers

Meera Rehm

a stack of books

growing taller

evening shadows

Agnes Eva Savich