THE HAIBUN GALLERY: 25th September 2025. Anju Kishore - Guest Poet
- Kala Ramesh

- Sep 25
- 2 min read
host: Rupa Anand
mentor: Lorraine Haig editors on haikuKATHA: Shalini Pattabiraman, Vidya Shankar, Firdaus Parvez and Kala Ramesh
Guest Poet: Anju Kishore
A Thursday Feature
25th September 2025 -
THE HAIBUN GALLERY September 2025 Anju Kishore
Dylan Stover
First place, Haiku Society of America Haibun Award 2024
Shortlist, Touchstone Award 2024
heartwood
It began with a young beech tree on a windy day, mid-spring. Acting upon an
impulse I cannot now explain, I pressed my ear to the smooth, gray bark and
started listening. To my surprise, there was sound: a secret inner creaking, like a
stifled moan, as the crown twisted in the breeze. It was voice—tree voice. Each
limb, as it swayed high in the canopy, was sending reverberations down through
the acoustic body of the tree and into my ear as I crouched patiently at its side.
hand at my chest
the doctor suspects
a murmur
That’s when I became a listener of trees: I quickly discovered that smooth bark
was best; the thicker the cork layer, the fainter the sound. Lithe ones were more
melodious, aged ones more laconic, terse. But all speaking.
Then one day I noticed a pileated woodpecker hammering away in the upper
branches of an ash tree. Sneaking up to the bole, I put my ear against the bark:
ta-tum ta-tum ta-a-TUM ta-tum… The wood trembled at each jab. Even the
scrapes of the bird’s claws were amplified: every movement echoed inside me,
as if the bird, the tree, and I were unified in a single, ringing vibration.
a simple procedure
to remove the weevil
—then silence
***
That feeling of being one with nature. Those moments when you are the tree, or
the bird, or the breeze or all of them at the same time and still stay the human
blessed with the ability to experience that oneness and express it too. Step
outdoors today and find one aspect of nature to connect to. Connect so deeply
that your hearts beat as one. You have a whole week to forge that connection
and let the human tell us the story like Dylan has in the above haibun.
Haibun outside the prompt is welcome
<>
Thanks, Anju.
We've come to the end of this month and I found your selection and propmts veried and effective.
Waiting to see what our poets come up with!
_kala
******
IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT NOTICE
NOTICE
Dear Haibuneers
Starting from March 2025, we at haikuKATHA are moving on to a new submissions format for haibun submissions. (Only for haibun, please note!)
Writers are invited to submit one unpublished haibun per submission window.
Kindly note the submissions calendar.
1-20 March, to be considered for publication in May
1-20 June, to be considered for publication in August
1-20 September, to be considered for publication in November
1-20 December, to be considered for publication in February
All accepted submissions will receive an email to confirm their acceptance by the 5th day of the publication month.
Your unpublished (only one) haibun should be sent to:
The Google link will be given in this space soon. This form will only be available during the submission period.
********
The Haibun Gallery continues as is.
We will be having editors and prompts, and your sharing…

#1
Off prompt
Game of Life
An unmindful turn and Baba is on the floor. Days turn into weeks as Baba shifts from the private ward into the ICU. The doctors don’t tell us much other than handing out yet another prescription for an exotic antibiotic.
Today, they ask me to purchase noradrenaline. Alone in the deserted corridor, I shift blocks on the app getting thwarted again and again.
Someone stands beside me looking over my shoulder. “What’s that?” He asks.
“Just a game.”
“Looks interesting,” he says. “I am sorry, your father is no more.”
black clouds
skirting the blue skies
vultures
Mohua Maulik, India
Feedback appreciated.
Beautiful haibun. Thank you for sharing.
Edit, thanks to Alfred and Lorraine:
#2
Man in the Moon
It began as a curiosity, prompted by rainfall on glass. I peered through the curtains, unable to sleep. There he was up there, bright as a button. I stared and I stared with his tears falling on my window. I too cried as I felt so sick. The following evening as I tossed and turned, there he was again. The full beam of cream cheese, melting in sky. As the days went on, we played hide n seek. Sometimes he hid part of himself, then began to reappear. One evening I nodded off against the cool glass. Then woke, face squashed to a moonbeam.
waning…
#2
Edit after a moment from Lorraine:
From a vantage point above the clearing
Stillness on late summer evenings after too many glasses of rosé at the campsite. Weeks pass by until winds and rains take up residency, the green depths tossed topsy-turvy or dappled by unending concentric circles, often everything at once. Too often. On a day when only a slight interruption occurs, a few men prepare canoes to float, decked in protective wear more like a kingfisher's than forest camouflage. They leave the minnows, watching the thick shadows beneath the autumn leaves before they rot and drown.
sounding algae . . .
waterproof moss paths
lead elsewhere
Alfred Booth
Lyon, France
(feedback welcome)
Original:
In a clearing
Edit, thanks to Diana and Alfred:
#1
A Thousand Ways to Sing
I am both the twirl, the hum, the snatch and the boom. You may not see but only feel me. Sometimes I choose to announce myself. Bang, crash, wallop – the smash into glass, the shriek around walls, the fell of a tree.
hawfinch
his song whistling
a capella
Out of tune, in tune, no matter to me. I simply sing in the spaces you inhabit or pass through. The slow brush of blossom, a rippling tide, a feather spinning on a leaf.
goldcrest notes
rising higher
than the wind
Joanna Ashwell
UK
Feedback welcome
#1
A Thousand…