neglecting nothing in his song, I wept in my seat
--Patrick Sweeney (Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania)

* * *

I hum...
a veil of snowflakes
our favorite aria
--Rita R. Melissano (Rock Island, Illinois)

* * *

in my sigh
the silence of all
your words
--Eta Grubesic (Bukovac, Serbia)

* * *

accompanying
the Christmas bells
a flurry of goldfinches
--Claire Ninham (North Yorkshire, England)

* * *

I feel whiffs of death
fanning my withering cheeks
that have smiled so much...
--Alan Maley (Canterbury, England)

* * *

expecting
a Christmas bump
June wedding
--Mike Gallagher (Listowel, Ireland)

* * *

my very first job:
bundling Christmas trees for sale--
I can smell the pine
--James Penha (Bali, Indonesia)

* * *

silencing the drones
and shrieks
a newborn
--Kavita Ratna (Bangalore, India)

* * *

circles within circles
the percussion of rain
swan song
--Randy Brooks (Taylorville, Illinois)

* * *

children gone--
we go on playing
as we put away the toys
--Sanjana Zorinc (Bjelovar, Croatia)

------------------------------
FROM THE NOTEBOOK
------------------------------

Roadhouse on one side
churchyard on the other
Hank Williams’ “lost highway”
--Carl Brennan (North Syracuse, New York)

While listening to his favorite crooner on the radio, do you think the haikuist pulled off the road to the right or to the left? Slobodan Pupovac drove straight ahead. Jerome Berglund questioned the path he took.

traffic light
green light
just for me

* * *

herding reindeer
maybe I was
good enough

In this final column for the year, we come to realize that a poem’s ending is not a singular event but rather a lingering moment that reflects complex process involving the haikuist, the structure of the haiku, its lines of questioning and our reader’s interpretation. In Nagoya, Satoru Kanematsu sat for a portrait, all the while thinking about his “dear old friends that had passed away far into the next world.”

Grandson draws
my portrait youngish
Elder’s Day

Mourning in Nowy Targ, Poland, Krzysztof Kokot marked the death of Slawa Sibiga (1950-2025), a frequent contributor to this column.

a door cracked open--
one cannot just leave
without saying goodbye

Haikuists are poised to pen haiku on Dec. 21, the winter solstice. Mariola Grabowska hopes the shortest day of the year will shine a little brighter in Warsaw, Poland.

swansong
the artist adds more shine
to the sunset

Mike Fainzilber noted that the length of this winter season will likely be longer because the average durations of spring and fall in Tel Aviv, Israel, have dramatically shortened.

Israeli autumn
sometimes it lasts
a whole week

In the woods nearby Luciana Moretto’s home in Treviso, Italy, “the trees are still all green and the sun is still hot.”

start of winter
last of the four seasons...
chaos under heaven

Climatologists at Mie University concur that the trend toward longer summers and later starting winters will intensify if global warming continues. Sergio DeMiglio recalled the warmest year on record in Toronto, Ontario.

Though the year has passed
warm memories endure
between friends

Alexander Groth dusted photograph frames in Berlin, Germany. Looking forward to Christmas in Tokyo, Murasaki Sagano watched a child pen a wish list.

on the mantelpiece--
a remembrance of
warmer times

* * *

on the shelf
beside Elmo’s books
“A letter to Santa”

Madhuri Pillai reminisced with her siblings in Melbourne, Australia.

photo album...
turning the pages of childhood
the bliss of endless sunshine

* * *

sibling holiday
how soon we revert
to childhood

Lilia Racheva tippled a glass of fruit brandy--“a favorite of the women in our family”--just before dinnertime.

sour cherry liqueur--
soft light
in mom’s kitchen

Charlie Smith chuckled contentedly in Raleigh, North Carolina.

old friends pour
Christmas spirits
into new laughter

Marion Clarke painted this line across Warrenpoint, Northern Ireland.

last blast of scarlet Virginia creeper

Brennan saluted the Stars and Stripes and his neighbors blew their horns in unison.

Snow in the forecast
all the leaf-blowers at once--
garden flags astir

John S. Gilbertson paid for a last round of drinks at a restaurant in Greenville, South Carolina. Moretto toasted with a swansong.

waitress pushes drinks,
at the end of the season,
winter is dryer

* * *

passion for singing
to death
myth of cicadas

Ramona Linke sang with the ghost of Christmas past in Saxony-Anhalt, Germany.

in the hayloft
the old wraith whistles
our song

Tsanka Shishkova dropped the needle onto a record and began to lip-synch in Sofia, Bulgaria. Then, the haikuist played “Happy Xmas” by John Lennon and Yoko Ono.

music and colors
in the cosmos of soul
divine gift

* * *

war is over
will his father be at home
for Christmas

As if celebrating aboard a cruise ship in the Adriatic Sea, Giuliana Ravaglia imagined dancing a few tango steps wearing a dress the color of red leaves.

autumn leaves--
staggering on the deck
at every step

Sagano admired cold-resilient red blooms.

rouged lips
even on an aged woman
winter camellias

David Cox puckered up for a kiss in Brno, Czechia. The haikuist peacefully reflected on how joyful it once was to eat a whole cookie house at Christmastime in Torquay, England.

rounded nests--
holding on through winter
mistletoe’s reach

* * *

layered memory
grandma’s gingerbread
iced at the edges

Levko Dovgan eyes glistened in war-torn Lviv, Ukraine.

November sleet
The first chocolate Santas
in the shop window

After a short visit to Neuenkirchen, Germany, Alexander Groth looked back longingly hoping to return.

winter sun
my grandmother’s smile
in the hospital window

Helga Stania looked wistfully at the outlines of cirques and crevasses on snowy mountains in Ettiswil, Switzerland.

autumn weaves--her last mountain walk

Oh dear, Mona Bedi’s haiku seems to imply that a housekeeper’s work in Delhi, India, will never end.

gran’s will
all her silverware bequeathed
to the loyal maid

Marilyn Henighan bid adieu to high-flyers over Ottawa, Ontario.

high in the sky
wild Canada geese honking
I wave goodbye

Isabella Kramer started counting down in Nienhagen, Germany.

remaining nights
the moth in my mouth
every Monday morning

Sagano rewound the crank key in preparation to ring in another new year in Tokyo.

Five minutes late…
but we’ve gone a long way
old clockwork

Distracted by a pair of ducks squabbling on a river in Takamatsu, Kagawa Prefecture, Ian Willey must be looking forward to getting away for a short while on vacation. Timothy Daly regrets having gone back to work in Bordeaux, France.

a day off
one duck reminds another
who’s the boss

* * *

back to work
the warbling blackbird
won’t shut up

Clarke giggled at gaggles of geese and grandfolks.

arrival of winter
in and out of Dublin
Brent geese and retirees

Writing in Tokyo, Junko Saeki believes “there is no wall or discontinuity between life and death.”

majestic swans--
just die as they have lived
swansong

Noting how mother’s groan while birthing, children groan while growing, Stoianka Boianova noted how groans from the dying can lead them to redemption.

strength of spirit--
death groans
turned into song

Noting that “only the wind blows away fallen leaves from an old chestnut tree” in Szczecin, Poland, Dorota Kasparewicz slowly came to realize that she was would have to be the last person to turn off the lights.

autumn
in front of the teahouse a line
of leaves

Zorinc felt a chilling wind in Dubrovnik, Croatia.

streetlight snow drifts--
left on the empty armchair
mother’s wool vest

Monica Kakkar finished her haiku at sundown. Arvinder Kaur heard flute notes on a chilly evening breeze floating across the Ganges River in India. Linus Blessing paid his respects at a cemetery in Berne, Switzerland.

setting sun...
still mulling over a poem
on the paper mulberry leaf

* * *

the music
of the living and the dead
leaves crunch

* * *

swayed by the breeze
the mourning willow’s boughs
waft over the grave

Tejendra Sherchan attended a vigil in Kathmandu, Nepal. Scott Wiggerman attended a funeral in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

lighting candles
for the dead protesters
my eyes follow her

* * *

funeral walk
we toss salt to keep
spirits behind

When the evening trains were cancelled in Gotherington, England, Sheila Barksdale penned this line about her niece walking home alongside the River Thames:

trapped in the city river stars pinch winter’s span

Zeljko Vojkovic looked furtively around the island of Vis, Croatia.

eyes
wide open
darkness everywhere

Grabowska looked back modestly upon her poetry.

end of the year
just a few of my haiku
worth remembering

John S. Gilbertson lay down between a rock and a hard place in Greenville, South Carolina.

tired of this writing,
darkness makes a hard bed
and light sleeps elsewhere

Margaret Ponting rose to a solemn occasion in Victoria, Australia, by singing the lyrics to a Christmas truce composed in 1816 by Joseph Mohr. In Tokyo, Saeki guarded a keepsake. The conclusion reached by these haiku shows how various interpretations and connections can shape the final meaning. Maley hoped for the best.

singing stille nacht carol
soldiers no longer recognize
the face of the enemy

* * *

year comes to an end--
everything was lost
except the Silk of China

* * *

first cuckoos calling,
just like last year--only not--
will this be the last?

Chen-ou Liu took a last deep breath in Ajax, Ontario.

last notes linger...
the crowd breathes in the held silence
then breathes out

The haikuist Tre concluded this robust year-end round of haiku by wishing everyone’s wounds will heal the way the line of dormant trees where she lives in the Blue Ridge Mountains do each winter, “so that we don’t have to carry them into the future.” In Iasi, Romania, Lavana Kray played the outro, the closing section of the final column for this year.

bittersweet
december’s coda
mends first wound

* * *

old songs--
two boots, filled with snow,
by her door

If readers enjoyed the haiku in this column, Olivier-Gabriel Humbert is ready to send a few more from Les Avenieres, France.

final concert
the very first piece learned
as an encore

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next issues of the Asahi Haikuist Network will appear on Jan. 2, 16, and 30, 2026. Readers are invited to send haiku about running a marathon, horses galloping in the new year or the Japanese prime minister’s promise to “work, work, work and work.” Mail contributions by postcard to David McMurray at the International University of Kagoshima, Sakanoue 8-34-1, Kagoshima, 891-0197, Japan, or by e-mail to (mcmurray@fka.att.ne.jp).

* * *

David McMurray has been writing the Asahi Haikuist Network column since April 1995, first for the Asahi Evening News. He is on the editorial board of the Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku, columnist for the Haiku International Association, and is editor of Teaching Assistance, a column in The Language Teacher of the Japan Association for Language Teaching (JALT).

McMurray is professor of intercultural studies at The International University of Kagoshima where he lectures on international haiku. At the Graduate School he supervises students who research haiku. He is a correspondent school teacher of Haiku in English for the Asahi Culture Center in Tokyo.

McMurray judges haiku contests organized by The International University of Kagoshima, Ito En Oi Ocha, Asahi Culture Center, Matsuyama City, Polish Haiku Association, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Seinan Jo Gakuin University, and Only One Tree.

McMurray’s award-winning books include: “Teaching and Learning Haiku in English” (2022); “Only One Tree Haiku, Music & Metaphor” (2015); “Canada Project Collected Essays & Poems” Vols. 1-8 (2013); and “Haiku in English as a Japanese Language” (2003).