Skip to content

Haiku Windows: window box


Haiku Windows

In the book Haiku: The Art of the Short Poem, editors Yamaguchi and Brooks quote David Lanoue:  “A haiku is a window”…

In the following weeks we will look at (or through?) the many possibilities raised by this thought – and you’re invited to join in the fun! Submit an original unpublished poem (or poems) via our Contact Form by Sunday midnight on the theme of the week, including your name as you would like it to appear, and place of residence. I will select from these for the column, and add commentary.


next week’s theme:  envelope window

Bills and more bills, bank statements and a notice that you have won the chance to win a lottery… this week we will look through the window to your mail…

I look forward to reading your submissions.


Haiku Windows:  window box

winter wind
a faded pink pinwheel turns
in the window box

Andrew Shimield

Whereas most submissions are understandably spring-related, this poem is clearly situated (from the very first word) in winter… and although the description could be interpreted as quite bleak, and the pinwheel, once a bright pink, is now faded, there is a certain optimism in the fact that it is still turning… perhaps the pinwheel is determined to remind us of the spring that waits in the heart of every winter…

a caterpillar
in my window box
changing seasons

Christina Sng

Here we also have the idea of the changing seasons, winter to spring or spring to summer, most likely, emphasized by the entrance of a creature that will change itself. The setting of the window box also fits well – gardening and plants also follow a cycle, although humans often attempt to force their own ideas on these things…

home tour morning
the space where
the window box was

Marilyn Appl Walker

Sometimes the poet notices the things that aren’t there – or the things that are no longer there… this could be a tour of a famous person’s house – perhaps it is now a museum – or it could be a home that is for sale… in any case, we can contemplate how and why things come and go, and there is space in the poem for the reader to fill in the picture…

early spring –
the window box still
without flowers

Tomislav Maretic

In this poem, it is possible to read one word two different ways… many poets write about flowers – the colours and scents of the window box – but this poem conveys another layer of meaning and a completely new direction at the same time:  the window box is yet to bloom with flowers, and the window box is without movement when there are no plants in it…

Here are the rest of my selections for this week:

overgrown window box
a finch song inches
into my dream

Adjei Agyei-Baah
Kumasi, Ghana


planting herself
in the window box
calico cat

Amy Losak
Teaneck, NJ


heritage house
kudzu vines reclaim
the window box

Anthony Rabang


first light
a sparrow chirping
in the window box

Aparna Pathak


window box
the cat and the ferns
freshly planted

Ardelle Hollis Ray
Las Vegas, NV


lavender blooms
in the window box –
mother’s scent

arvinder kaur
chandigarh, India


even her window box
thrives on drama –
dragon wing begonias

Beverly Acuff Momoi
Mountain View, CA


window box…
a sweet potato vine
creeps over the edge

Carol Raisfeld


all saints day
in the window box
a butterfly wing

cezar florescu


empty leasehold
a weed in
the window box

David Jacobs
London, UK


window box
the scent of lavender
on my fingertips

Debbi Antebi
London, UK


window box
the touch of a dandelion
in my hands

Eufemia Griffo


last year’s window box
the flowers
I never planted

Eva Limbach
Saarbrucken, Germany


curtain drawn
a bird’s nest
in the window box

Garry Eaton


hospice window box full of wildflowers

Hifsa Ashraf


kitchen sill planter
a wall lizard tilts its length
to the sun

Ingrid Baluch


window box
her collection
of wild grasses

Joanne van Helvoort


bonsai window box
my limitations
in clear view

Kath Abela Wilson


window box –
a room of blooms
for a view

Keith Polette
El Paso, TX USA


water rationing
all the window boxes
planted with plastic

Kimberly Esser
Los Angeles, CA


winter’s  end
the ragged promise of
window box pansies

Liz Ann Winkler


Snowfall –
white buds
cover my window box.

Lorraine Schein
Queens, NY


the summer scent
from kitchen window box…
fresh basil

fresco profumo / dalla finestra aperta… basilico

Lucia Cardillo


garden shed
mother’s window boxes
once flooded with herbs

Madhuri Pillai


slug in the window box
where he/she has gone
to live/die

Mark Gilbert
Nottingham, UK


cooing in the window box
a pigeon chick

Marta Chocilowska


window box
a tiny bird skeleton
among the leaves

Martha Magenta
England, UK


window box
the sound of rain
in the room

martin gottlieb cohen


pinching basil
a spicy breeze
off the window box

Mary Weiler
Todos Santos, BCS, Mexico


window box
a tree frog without
the tree

Michael Henry Lee


window box –
this annual maintenance
is for the birds

Michael H. Lester
Los Angeles CA USA


city window box
a mourning dove croons
to her eggs

Michele L. Harvey


gerbera daisies
in the window box…
spring equinox

Neha Talreja


the spaces between
sweet flag, petunia, ivy
a wren’s nest

Nicole Tilde
Shady Dale, Ga.


from the window box
the scent of lavender

Olivier Schopfer


window box
one open flower
center stage

Pat Davis
Pembroke, NH  USA


window box weeds
fall on 31st street
no Roundup allowed

Paul Geiger


morning sunshine
the last snow melts
in the window box

Rachel Sutcliffe


mourning dove
rests in the window box
thin sunshine

Randy Brooks


morning breeze
scent of sage
from the window box

Rehn Kovacic


window box
where mother’s tulips
used to live

Roberta Beary
County Mayo, Ireland


african violets
wine stains inside
an old window box

robyn brooks


children’s shelter…
tiny treasures hidden
in the window box

Ron C. Moss
Tasmania, Australia


window box –
green leaves rustling
in the breeze

Rosa Maria Di Salvatore


at the window box
practicing my scales

Sari Grandstaff
Saugerties, NY, USA


Mom’s room
Tulip bulbs
sprout in the window box

Serhiy Shpychenko
Kyiv, Ukraine


sun shines on
the window box
gilding the lilies

Shandon Land


window box
waiting for the chrysalis
before replanting

Simon Hanson
Queensland, Australia


window box
a sparrow pecks at
the dead geranium

Skaidrite Stelzer
Toledo, Ohio


window box
in the flower pot
a baby dove opens eyes

Srinivasa Rao Sambangi


window box
thinking about the garden
drinking my morning tea

Stephen A. Peters


window box rescue
just in time for marinara
three ripe Roma

Susan Rogers
Los Angeles, CA


neighbor’s new cat
taking up gardening
in my window box

Tammie Baluch
Kampala, Uganda


icicles grow
under the window box
longer days

Tom Sacramona


flowers and butterflies…
so many colors in the
small window box

Tsanka Shishkova


window box mosaic
red geraniums… green leaves…
blue paint

Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
Fairlawn, Ohio USA


falling uninhibited
on the window box…
my tears and the rain

Vandana Parashar


Katherine Munro lives in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and publishes under the name kjmunro. She is Membership Secretary for Haiku Canada and an Associate Member of the League of Canadian Poets. She recently co-edited an anthology of crime-themed haiku called Body of Evidence: a collection of killer ’ku.

This Post Has 28 Comments

  1. Really enjoyed this segment as spring arrives in this part of the world. My favorite was Beverly Acuff Momoi’s. I know so many people who could fit into that haiku.

  2. Love Kath Abela Wilson’s and Marilyn Walker’s. Thank you Kathy for also including one of mine! The whole idea of a haiku in a window box – wow.

  3. Thank-you for publishing one of mine. When I submit more than one, it is interesting to see which you choose.

  4. What an enjoyable morning read! I imagined walking down a long colourful street, pausing to admire each poetic window box. Good ones, Kathy!

  5. I thought this under-stated poem by Eva Limbach could easily be missed but says quite a lot:
    last year’s window box
    the flowers
    I never planted

    1. Pat – a submission is to be previously unpublished – this includes anything public – online or in print – books, anthologies, journals, magazines, blogs, Facebook, and anything else that could be considered published and viewed by the public… earlier I was asked about a closed Facebook group, & I answered that a closed group would not be considered published – but anything public would be… thanks for asking

  6. Another great set of haiku! Have a great afternoon with Jacquie and fellow haijin, I hope they serve scones the Cornwall way! 🙂
    warm regards,

    1. thanks Alan – it was wonderful to see Jacquie & the others in sunny Vancouver, but no scones! Maybe next time…

  7. Thanks for including mine – I’m proud to see an LGBT (well, T) haiku featured as these are extremely rare (well, that’s what I think it’s about, anyway, at least in part).

    1. Mark,
      You are correct. One I wrote about deadnaming still is looking for a home.

  8. I absolutely loved Andrew Shimield’s ‘winter wind / a faded pink pinwheel turns / in the window box’. Killer.

    1. thanks for your kind words, Mark.
      and hats off to Kathy for organising this weekly pleasure

Comments are closed.

Back To Top