THE HAIBUN GALLERY: 19th March 2026. Linda Papanicolaou - Guest Editor
- Srinivas Sambangi
- 1 day ago
- 2 min read
Editors on haikuKATHA: Shalini Pattabiraman, Vidya Shankar, Firdaus Parvez and Kala Ramesh
Guest Editor: Linda Papanicolaou
Featured Poet: Michael Rehling
Host: Srinivas Sambangi
A Thursday Feature
19th March 2026
in my mind i still need a place to go
Michael Rehling
casual as the moon. my mind wanders through the big dipper and into
countless stars. as i gather myself deep into old age and the sky seems to
have a strange pull. wondering where will i go when this body ceases to
breathe for me and with each celestial movement another question appears
in my mind. meanings and the blue blue mountains behind the sky will
materialize later. but right now a trillion stars beg me to stop counting
them…
in the quiet
of night sky
buddha stares back
—Facebook Jun 9 2025
Commentary:
Experiments we commonly see with the prose in haibun include fragment
or run-on sentences, non-standard punctuation, justification, or page
layout… In his case, the prose is all in lower- case letters such as we
generally associate with E. E. Cummings. In haiku it conveys simplicity, and
the open-ended immediacy of a moment in time. Here, the humility of the
lower-case first person “i” dovetails with the haibun’s Buddhist theme.
Punctuation is not run-on; rather, a simple period articulates both clauses
and sentences, trailing off into an ellipses at the end. Rather than
compress the prose, the effect is a measured rhythm, almost like breathing.
As for descriptive detail, here it’s the purpose is not objective but an
inwardly focused soliloquy where the mind “wanders through the big
dipper” as “countless stars: become “a trillion starts beg[ging] me to stop
counting them.” So much for those who say that haikai forms shouldn’t be
anthropomorphic!
Prompt:
Write a haibun with imagery that is purely subjective.
***
One day or the other, we will all experience what Michael Rehling says. Another thought provoking prompt this week.
And, thank you Linda for being with us through this month!
_Srinivas
#1
Silver Linings
i am not yet part of the flow parts of me are threads billowing and free the sky has no place for my transparency this bowl without a rim a loose skein of blues greys whites and then suddenly it is black
never enough -
dipping a brush
to paint more stars
Joanna Ashwell
UK
What a beautiful haibun from Mike, a wonderful prompt thank you.
The first four scenes and an epilogue
Synopsis
he walks up the hill into the park :: the four ginkgo trees are starting to bud, a couple of magpies caper across the grassy areas, every park bench is empty
a moment of introspection :: he has never learned how to blossom each spring, reinventing himself year by year into something approaching perfection
claiming his favorite spot near the Hawthorn tree, he loosens his scarf takes off his cap, appreciates the warm sunlight :: creative souls have painted new street art on the fifty-meter wall separating the park from the buildings below :: if only his words could express so much about individuality
later he will relax in a heap of…
#1
The Weight of an Echo
The ceiling has decided to become a lake, and I am swimming upward to reach the floor. Every word I thought today is now a heavy, copper coin resting on my tongue—I can taste the metal of my own silence. (Somewhere, a clock is counting backwards, erasing the afternoon one shadow at a time). My pulse is no longer in my wrist; it has moved into the walls, a rhythmic thumping of plaster and lath that knows my name better than I do. I am not breathing air, I am breathing the distance between two stars that haven't met yet.
a Mirror
swallows its own
Reflection
Jacek Margolak
Poland
.dentity
I like the paintings of Paul Cezanne I like the music of Gabriel Faure I like all the novels of Jane Austen I Iike the poems of G M Hopkins I like the way this prose sounds rhythmic and I don't like the fact I can't come up with a title or haiku but maybe i can ...
tree and i as one
my initials carved in the bark
another's hand