THE HAIBUN GALLERY: February 19, 2026 K. Ramesh - Guest Editor
- Kala Ramesh
- Feb 19
- 1 min read
editors on haikuKATHA: Shalini Pattabiraman, Vidya Shankar, Firdaus Parvez and Kala Ramesh
Guest Editor: K. Ramesh
Featured Poet: Jacek Margolak
A Thursday Feature February 19, 2026
Reminding I take the train. Dreaming of one with puffing steam. The station. The streets of my hometown. I don't recognize anything. home again all my shoes are too small Jacek Margolak
Posted in The Haibun Gallery: January, 2026
Comments:
Ezra Pound’s poem titled “In a Station of the Metro” made a big impact on me when I first read it. I couldn’t understand it immediately; however, it left me with a kind of feeling similar to the one I had when I watched some black-and-white movies that had scenes associated with war and train journeys.
Prompt:
Write a haibun related to a train journey. However, the piece should not be dark and gloomy but bright and light (karumi)
***
Thanks, Ramesh.
Another interesting mini-haibun.
I'm sure our members will enjoy this piece.
_kala
The Haibun Gallery continues as is.
We will be having editors and prompts, and your sharing …
#1
London
We board the Tube with our luggage. Most seats are taken so we stand. At the next stop a man in a scruffy suit carrying a black umbrella boards. He stands at the entrance and looks around. Out loud he says, “Bonnie and Clyde, together they lived, together they died.” He then belts the handholds above his head with his umbrella. Gradually the carriage empties, except for us.
warm and dry
he chooses a seat
and falls asleep
Lorraine Haig, Aust.
#1
Belonging
I watch the trees sprinting back. The vast paddy fields are bare. Will they remember me? At the bend of the track, the engine chugs along, blowing the whistle. My eyes turn back to The Motorcycle Diaries.
wildflowers
in the fields —
a long whistle
Rashmi Buragohain
India
#2
Meadow Strands
My face presses against the glass. How many can I count? There are so many waving their splendour in the breeze. Poppy after poppy dazzles my world. My sleeve is tugged, the station is close. Why would you want to disembark when this is before you?
dream by dream
my own wonder
tilled in carriage light
Joanna Ashwell
UK
Post #1
22.2.26
Proof of passage
The excitement among us children is contagious. We race helter-skelter across the small railway platform, waiting for the toy train from Kalka to Shimla.
The 96-kilometre journey will take six unhurried hours. When the train finally chugs out of the station, we erupt into a loud cheer. To keep us occupied, each child is assigned a task: count the tunnels and bridges along the way.
mountain dusk
her freckles turn into
constellations
We argue over tallies, fight over numbers till the numbers matter less than the thrill of watching the hills unfold.
echo and wind what the mountains leave behind
Mona Bedi
India
Feedback appreciated:)
#2
Raptisagar Express*
They are good at many things-magic, hypnotism, circus, dance, music and many more. When young, I used to hear India has many hypnotists and tantric people. Such stories probably were brought into Nepal by lahures ** who came home from India for holidays.
Once I need to accompany my father-in-law to Chennai for his kidney transplant. I and his donor are to travel by land, while he would fly by plane. It was over 36 hours train ride, a fantastic opportunity to see India from north to south. When the train was chugging through a quiet mountain, a gang of transgender women with kids hop on to my compartment and start taunting us. They beg us…