onebreathpoetry

Tag: #haiku #poetry #haikupoetry #haikupoem #poem #haiku #poetrycommunity #haibun #panhaikureview #winter2024

  • Drifting Sands Haibun

    Honored to be in the beautiful Drifting Sands Haibun – a Journal of haibun and tanka prose, Issue 33, September 2025, with my #haibun, “War and Peace” among the gallery of poems by talented poets.

    Grateful to dear Dr. Anna Cates, Guest Editor, @Sangita Kalarickal, Chief Editor & @Reid Hepworth, Associate Editor, for the acceptance & publication. 🙏💐

    Congratulation to all featured poets.

    War and Peace.

    Neena Singh
    Chandigarh, India

    air raid siren
    amid the darkness
    moonflowers

    It begins with the sound — shrill, rising, slicing the dusk like a blade. The siren is followed by a blackout, and everything dissolves into shadow: lights are off, ceiling fans stop, conversations halt, the city holds its breath. We pull the curtains tight, switch off phones, and light a single candle.

    My grandson asks if war has begun. Grandpa’s voice is calm telling him it’s a mock drill. Yet the next day, reality strikes, the sky feels no longer mine, with missiles flashing like gargantuan fireflies.

    That night, I dream of green fields and children of both countries flying kites—no borders, no flags, no fear.

    ceasefire
    granny hums louder
    shelling peas

    Author’s Note: Title borrowed from Leo Tolstoy’s “War and Peace”.

  • Pan Haiku Review

    The Pan Haiku Review issue four, ed. Alan Summers (#Winter2024) haibun and #tanka-bun special is out!

    What a power-packed issue it is—kudos to Alan for all the hard work in putting it all together for us to learn more about these forms. 💐👌

    Grateful to Alan for the publication of two of my #haibun in the awesome 176 page edition:

    Not Quite Renunciation

    Four-year-old Duke lingers by our gate, his gait slow. His mistress passed away last month, and their house at the end of our lane—once full of life—now stands locked up. The caretaker, living in the annex, takes care of him. The children live far away and send money for his upkeep.

    The old caretaker tells how Duke’s mistress loved him like a mother. I kneel feeling the weight of grief. His tail wags, though when I offer a biscuit, his head turns away.

    yellow swallowtail
    so suddenly it flies
    from a leaf

    *

    Freehold

    As I unlock the main gate in the morning, I see a black dog, he wags his tail and tries to enter. I shut the gate and come outside. He looks at me and sits outside the gate again. There are five stray dogs in the lane who come for their daily treats—this is a new visitor. He doesn’t look like a stray, most probably an abandoned labrador looking for a home.

    missing my pet
    I feed her treats
    to street dogs

    I offer him a biscuit. Soon three strays arrive barking, and attack the newcomer. The dog bares his wolf incisors and leaps. They back off, I also try to distract them with biscuits.

    Leaving home for my morning walk, I look back, Blackie is ensconced at the gate, his tail spread out like a fern.

    No Trespassing across the barbed wire I fall among wildflowers

    *

    Congratulations to all featured #poets and to Reid Hepworth for her book review by Kelly Barnes Sargent. Can’t wait to read the full issue!