her suitcase
on the stair —
wilted sakura
by Martina Matijević (Croatia)
Commentary by Jacob D. Salzer:
A striking haiku that has a good balance of imagery and mystery (yugen). We don’t know who the female is in this haiku. We also don’t know if she is leaving or arriving. And where is she leaving or arriving at? The imagery of a wilted sakura (cherry blossom) makes me think the female in this haiku is leaving; however, as the word “wilted” seems to point to the end of the sakura‘s life, the female could very well be the poet’s grandmother. I especially appreciate the image of her suitcase, as it leads my mind to wonder where she has traveled from or imagine where she is going. She may have traveled quite some distance, and this shows she has a great interest in the poet or whoever she is visiting.
The sakura festivals (cherry blossom viewing) in Japan are quite popular, as the cherry blossoms show a brief moment of vivid color and beauty, but their impermanence is what is believed to make them even more beautiful. Still, the cherry blossoms always return, so it is both an annual tradition and has a long history in Japan. In the end, are we not all visitors here? Are our souls also on a long journey? Will we be reincarnated like the cherry blossoms and return once again after physical death?
A beautiful haiku that leads us to contemplate travel, impermanence, the importance of place, relationships, and ultimately, the potential of reincarnation and the journey of the soul. A powerful haiku.
november rainfall—
dad cooks dinner
for the first time
by Anthony Lusardi (USA)
published in Modern Haiku, issue #57.2, 2026
Commentary by Nicholas Klacsanzky:
“november rainfall” shows the seasonal reference (kigo), but November also carries a specific emotional tone. Late autumn is often associated with melancholy and/or transitions. In addition, November rain creates an atmosphere of grayness and quietude.
This somber feel at the beginning of the haiku is contrasted and compared in the last two lines. The poet’s dad cooking for the first time could be either a joyous or sad moment. The haiku never states why this is his first time cooking, but it could be due to an illness in the family, a divorce, the mother’s absence, or other reasons unknown.
The use of punctuation (as an approximation of kireji) allows us to pause and imagine the rain and all its sounds. The sound of the rain is similar to the crackle of oil in a cooking pan.
The haiku’s compression adds to its ambiguity. With nine words total, this poem is the usual length of a classical haiku in Japanese (in literal English translations).
When I read this haiku aloud, the letter “r” sticks out the most. In my opinion, it provides the haiku with a sense of heaviness or weight. Also, the letters “m” and “n” interchange, creating a musical quality.
Overall, I enjoy the mystery of this haiku and how it allows readers to uncover different emotions connected to themselves and their family history.
wind through bamboo—
I too
am hollow
by Thomas L. Vaultonburg (USA)
published in The Heron’s Nest, March 2026
Commentary by Hifsa Ashraf:
I find this haiku intriguing in its simplicity. The opening line immediately creates a vivid scene, while the em dash invites us to pause and wonder about the wind: does the wind pass through the bamboo? Does it create a rhythmic sound? Does it pass silently? Is it moving through a single bamboo plant, a group of bamboo, or an entire bamboo grove? Does it affect the person observing it? All these questions arise when we read the first line and pause at the em dash. The short second line shifts the poem from the external world to the speaker’s inner state. The word ‘too’ seems to connect the person with the bamboo, suggesting that, like the hollow bamboo, the person also feels empty.
The wind can also be read as a metaphor for time or difficult forces that pass through us and leave their mark. I particularly like the sound pattern of ‘through’, ‘bamboo’, and ‘too’. The recurring ‘oo’ sound creates a lingering, resonant quality that reinforces the feeling of emptiness and solitude, while the softer ‘m’ and ‘w’ sounds add to the poem’s quiet, melancholic mood. Together, these sounds create an atmosphere of sadness, solitude, and quiet introspection.
What begins as a simple image of wind through bamboo ultimately becomes a reflection on loneliness and the human condition. The simplicity of the language leaves much unsaid, allowing the reader to enter that silence and complete the meaning for themselves.
Sumi-e painting by yupanqui87
