2026 Japan Fair Haiku Contest

First Place

wintering . . .

a nail in the wall

without a painting

Brad Bennett

Arlington, Massachusetts

The image of a nail without a painting generates a melancholy feeling. We may wonder if someone is moving to a new home, having just taken down a painting. But the first word tells us that the person is wintering, hunkering down for the cold season. So perhaps they are spending time on indoor tasks, such as replacing artwork on a wall. But we don’t really know, and not knowing gives us space to engage with this poem, to speculate on possible feelings and meanings. Another possibility is that the nail has just been added to the wall, awaiting its first painting, and for the moment we are experiencing an in-between pause. What do you feel when you receive this poem?

Second Place

fireflies

the first time

we kissed

Jeff Hoagland

Hopewell, New Jersey

The joy of a first kiss finds an echo in the delight of fireflies. We all know the feeling of having butterflies in your stomach, but how about fireflies? This kiss is at night, and even the fireflies seem to celebrate young love. This poem may seem deceptively simple, but it carries much pleasure, tied to a vivid seasonal reference.

Third Place

daymoon a silence that asks for nothing

Damir Damir

Beograd, Serbia

This enigmatic one-line haiku mirrors the one-line vertical presentation of haiku in Japanese. Daytime moons are typically faint and do indeed ask for nothing, but this poem is about its accompanying silence. Nature silently asks us for nothing, but we can still choose to admire and respect all the beauty around us, even when it’s faint.

Adult Honorable Mentions (in order)

cherry blossoms—

I call an apple tree

by the wrong name

Ana Drobot

Bucharest, Romania

Many different trees blossom in the spring. In this poem, the poet is aware of mixing up cherry and apple trees. Perhaps they are so enamored by any kind of blossoms that they don’t realize that they are seeing apples rather than cherries. And yet now they know, and the joy of blossoms is tempered with a bit of learning and self-consciousness.

the rush

of wind through the trees

—last rites

Nancy Brady

Huron, Ohio

At the moment of someone receiving last rites, the wind blows through the trees. It seems fortuitous or perhaps foreboding. The rush of that wind matches a rush of feeling that accompanies the ritual of last rites.

evening returns . . .

the fishermen’s voices

over the waves

Paula Sears

Exeter, New Hampshire

As nightfall darkens the shore, perhaps fishermen are returning to the harbor, their voices preceding them as their boats get closer. But are these fishermen in boats? Perhaps they’re by a lake, fishing from shore, and maybe it’s easier to hear them as the day’s light wanes. Either way, it seems that they’ve had a fulfilling day.

Youth Honorable Mentions (in order)

moving day

a toy soldier left to guard

the tree house

Florin Maica (15)

Botosani, Romania

This is indeed a moving day. Youthfulness seems to be left behind with that tree house, where many childhood memories were formed. Will a new child discover the tree house and take over the command of that toy soldier?

a girl thickens

the hopscotch lines

indian summer

Antonia Chersan (15)

Botosani, Romania

Perhaps autumn rains threaten to wash away these hopscotch lines. The girl wants to continue playing, so she thickens the lines in the hope of delaying the inevitable passing of the season, perhaps also hoping to stave off growing older.

cherry blossoms—

wet hair gathers

on the barbershop floor

Sanya Tarique (16)

Jericho, New York

Spring is a good time for a haircut. Just as cut hair gathers on the barbershop floor, the seasonal change of cherry blossoms happens outside. Surely the blossoms are gathering on the grass around the trees, and perhaps the person receiving the haircut is entering a new season too.

Winning haiku in both Japanese and English were displayed at the 2026 Japan Fair at Meydenbauer Center in Bellevue, Washington, 27–28 June 2026.

Also displayed were 24 Japanese poems on shikishi, featuring leading Japanese haiku poets, with translations by Emiko Miyashita and Michael Dylan Welch.