2026 Porad Award Winners

Antoinette Cheung, Judge

Luke Brannon, Contest Coordinator

Sponsored by Haiku Northwest

First Place ($100)

burned barn

the moon

through one nail hole

Travis Park

Noblesville, Indiana

The gravity and levity kept calling me back to this poem. The immediacy of the burned barn was inescapable, and I could almost smell the foulness of smoke and ash in the air. This past summer, we’ve seen the brutality of wildfires across many parts of the Pacific Northwest and elsewhere. Yet, it is not the darkness and doom that the poet has zoomed in on. Instead, they have chosen to honor the light that remains, if we decide to look for it. Peering through one seemingly trivial detail in the wreckage, we see the moon and realize that it has always been there—a stable, reliable presence amidst the brokenness. Ultimately, this poem offers a sense of hope.

Second Place ($50)

ground cherries

not above accepting

              a handout

Bridget Chebo Enggasser

Winchester, Virginia

Among my friends and family, ground cherries are a mildly controversial addition to desserts. While some would push it off their slice of cake as if it’s an inedible accoutrement, I gladly peel away the papery husk and pop the fruit into my mouth to enjoy its tart sweetness. In this poem, the linking of ground cherries with the dire situation of needing a handout is mysterious at first glance. But as I reflect on the varied reactions to this fruit, different facets of the story become clear. The hidden gem behind the husk becomes a metaphor for those who are struggling to make ends meet. Rather than overlooking these individuals, we could play a role in uncovering their value.

Third Place ($25)

summer’s end . . .

Nature rewilds

the campground

Gregory Piko

Mitchell, Australia

It is indeed summer’s end as I write this reflection, and the transition towards admiring the beauty of nature from outdoors to indoors is in full swing. I loved the representation of nature with a capital “N” in this poem. It is majestic and undeniably the main character in this story. Nature, with its attunement to cycles, ebbs, and flows, rewilds to reverse our often-destructive impact. This poem suggests that without our presence, plants regrow, streams become clear, bears scavenge freely. In this way, it reminds us that we are guests on this land.

Honorable Mentions (unranked)

pine forest . . .

i walk among

mentors

Brad Bennett

Arlington, Massachusetts

To me, this poem is a love letter to the haiku community. Like the narrator, I have thrived because of mentors. My haiku journey would have fallen flat if I hadn’t had the chance to connect with and learn from gracious poets locally and worldwide. To do so has given me the kind of grounding expressed in this poem, cultivating attentiveness from the scent of fresh pines, and serenity from the quiet forest. Similar to our third-place poem, the attention to capitalization here plays a role in conveying a deeper meaning. The lowercase “i” is a symbol of deference to our mentors. And having the third line simply as “mentors” rather than “my mentors” or other more descriptive terms highlights the universality and reach of mentors.

jun

             co

each

                 hop

    a

      head

                       of

the

               cat’s

gaze

petro c. k.

Seattle, Washington

This poem is pure delight! It is playful, and a perfect example of how experimenting with form can transform the experience of a simple moment for readers. As our eyes encounter each syllable down the page, we become the cat intently following the junco. The format is an essential part of the poem and elevates it with a touch of whimsy.

river fog

the doctor says

it settles in the lungs

Gregory Longenecker

Pasadena, California

Fog is such a visual term. Ironically, with the perception that fog is present, we observe nothing. With river fog, this nothingness expands into an all-consuming, disorienting blur that snakes around and surrounds us. We are transported from the doctor’s office to a dazed state in which there is no visible path forward. It doesn’t matter what “it” is; maybe we’re not even certain at this point. With a careful choice of words, the poem deftly portrays the moment when our brain shuts down as we confront devastating news.

wildflowers renaming the abortion

Edward Cody Huddleston

Baxley, Georgia

In only four words, this poem expresses an entire grief journey. I see wildflowers as agents of growth without constraint, determined to bloom in whatever conditions befall them. Wildflowers write their own story and are their own narrators. In this context, renaming becomes an act of defiance, a choice to define something in their own terms, and maybe even be freed from the weight it used to carry.

Judge’s Thanks

What an honor to judge this year’s Porad haiku contest. As a Canadian, the timing serves as a reminder that, in the haiku community, we have no borders. I am grateful to Haiku Northwest for extending a friendly invitation to me for this role. Your warmth is palpable across our distance. The submissions were a delight to read and sit with, as I felt the generosity of each poet shine through. I was introduced to new flora and fauna, transported to landscapes beyond the Pacific Northwest, and welcomed into prosaic yet significant moments. To choose winners from among these experiences is an impossible task. In the end, the ones that drew me in and encouraged me to stay for longer were ones that reminded me of the possibilities for haiku. I hope you enjoy this selection as much as I have.

Antoinette Cheung

Vancouver, British Columbia

Coordinator’s Thanks

In my second year coordinating the Porad Haiku Award, I am happy to see so many entries from across the globe. With 551 submissions, poets from 14 countries entered their English-language haiku in the 2026 competition. Many thanks to Antoinette Cheung for her careful judgment and selection of this year’s poems. Congratulations to this year’s winners and thank you to all who entered.

Luke Brannon

Porad Award Coordinator