AHS invites you to share with us your original haiku about Change, a subject that is particularly pertinent at the end of the year. This is a wide-ranging topic. We invite you to explore a multiplicity of ideas in the String without using the word ‘change’.
The haiku will be linked by the subject Change. It is not necessary for each haiku to relate to the one before it.
Thank you for your contributions to the AHS Summer Solstice Haiku String 2018 on ‘change’. The String is now closed for contributions, but please enjoy the haiku in the String. Contributors have come from both Australia and many other countries, which is reflected in the diverse range of haiku.
- Please contribute up to three of your best haiku.
- Haiku should be posted in the comment box at the end of the post.
- Haiku posted must be original work by the poet making the post. Please include your name below each haiku as you wish it to appear.
Posting your work in the AHS Summer Solstice Haiku String 2018 assumes the following:
Copyright of each haiku remains with the author. We request nonexclusive permission to publish your work on AHS website and to republish it in any future online collections on the AHS website.
old town rivulet
its banks overrun
with forget-me-nots
Lyn Reeves
Discover more from Australian Haiku Society
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Australian Haiku Society 
CHRISTMAS PROMISE
sea-floor detritus
something sluggish stirs the rot
I hear sweet carols
©2018 jp m daid
LikeLike
a hawk watches
from a bare branch
dawn silence
solstice
the tilt of her head
when she smiles
winter rain
when will these tears
dry
LikeLiked by 4 people
a wave washes
away our footprints
summer’s end
distant dogs
the stars go in
for the night
grey ocean
where is your sparkle
of yesterday?
LikeLiked by 1 person
life cycle of
a monarch butterfly
transformations
—Christina Sng
everything
stays the same
winter again
—Christina Sng
the seasons
indiscernible
tropical sky
—Christina Sng
LikeLiked by 2 people
on the bum
I change clothes
with a Hills Hoist
immigrants
their oasis becomes
a billabong
morning hush
we marvel at the snow piled
on the clotheslne
LikeLiked by 2 people
crying gull
our beach walk
alone
wind change
one by one my tears
disappear
distant horizon
a new morning
beckons
LikeLiked by 4 people
first snow—
the road might as well
be a pasture
– Nicholas Klacsanzky
church bells . . .
the azalea different
in each gust
– Nicholas Klacsanzky
Soviet apartment . . .
kittens make a home
out of a hole
– Nicholas Klacsanzky
LikeLiked by 5 people