MITSUAKI KOJIMA

There are few words in haiku, but haikuists such as English professor Alan Maley savor every syllable. Patrick Sweeney chose to spell out one word per line to help his readers visualize the images described in his poem about seagulls standing along a pier in Misawa, Aomori.

Low
tide ...
a
gull
for
each
piling

J.D. Heskin shares a story from Africa where he says, "It is believed by some African fisherman that rain is coming if they see seagulls dipping their heads in the water." Rosanna Bucciarelli lost sight of the flying seagulls she was watching in Canterbury, England. Serbian poet Jasminka Nadaskic Diordievic also drinks: By sipping poetry.

Ah ha! the seagulls
are washing their faces―
it will rain soon

Sunset sea
winds blowing offshore
gulls depart

Deep summer night―
with green tea from the bowl
I drink a crescent moon

Lost in the mist in Victoria harbor in Canada, James R. Atkinson searches for a place to anchor. Tokyo poet Eriko Asakawa says her "heart is with nature" every day.

Fog horn
I move closer
to myself

Rainy days
this minute
I belong to Nature

Barbara Casterline didn't coin a new word on the third line of her haiku, but she may be the first haikuist ever to refer to the color of the sky as being phthalocyanine-blue, an intense metallic greenish blue compound used in acrylic paints.

In Tokyo, Mickey Nasu was so attracted to the deep orangy-red hue of woody vine trumpet creepers that he could hear their music. As summer draws to a close in Hamburg, Germany, where Stefan Wolfshutz lives, apple orchards are once again brimming ripe red.

Brilliant brass
trumpets in full bloom
summer symphony

In the basket
fresh picked apples-
old woman's summer

In addition to eating, drinking, hearing from storytellers and listening to music, haikuists love reading books. Sagami Matsuda pays tribute to this summer's hottest-selling book in Japan. Reading "Harry Potter 6 awakes the curiosity sleeping in the old veins," he says.

These old veins
curiously awake
Potter 6

English teacher Satoru Kanematsu read the British version: Note his preference for the British English spelling of the word (draft in American English) meaning a current of air in an enclosed space.

Summer draught
no more eyedrops left
for my eyes

Want to try composing haiku ?

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The next issue of the Asahi Haikuist Network appears Oct. 1. Readers are invited to mail haiku about the arrival of autumn, contest announcements and haiku books for review to David McMurray at the International Herald Tribune/Asahi Shimbun, 5-3-2 Tsukiji, Chuo-ku, Tokyo 104-8011. For a color version of the Asahi Haikuist Network vist www.asahi.com/english/haiku.