Salil ChaturvediSalil Chaturvedi

Born 1968, India
Currently residing in Goa, India

Salil Chaturvedi took to haiku in 2007 and has turned into a haiku addict. It is a form that allows him to enter the stream which flows all around us, right here, right now. And the stream is addictive. He also writes short fiction and poetry that has appeared in various magazines and anthologies.


winter night . . .
the cat takes the empty curve
of her waist

Modern Haiku, 48:3, Autumn 2017

moonless night…
even so
the blossoms of Saptaparni

The Heron’s Nest, Volume XIX, Number 2, June 2017

inside a curled leaf
the cocoon shifts

Hedgerow, Summer Print issue, 2017

twitchy ears
of the sleeping dog—
approaching rain

Hedgerow #118

easier than this koan. . .
summer lilies

Hedgerow #118

lonely night . . .
from the bulbul nest
a little chirp

Acorn, Issue 39, Fall 2017

grandpa’s cane—
I fall
into his stride

Prune Juice, November 2017

tiny fish
in a roadside stream
the world’s edge

Chrysanthemum 20, October 2016

spring day—
father plays the guitar
with just three strings

Chrysanthemum 21, April 2017

super moon:
a notch louder
the sound of crickets

Chrysanthemum 21, April 2107

new year’s day—
cleaning the dust
settled on buddha

Failed Haiku, Volume 2, Issue 15, March 2017

winter sunset…
will she take the hint
of her shadow

Failed Haiku, Volume 2, Issue 16, April 2017

birthday wish—
father shows me
his trembling hand

Failed Haiku, Volume 2, Issue 16, April 2017

traffic jam—
we’re all pointed
to the moon

Failed Haiku, Volume 2, Issue 20, August 2017

the tv environment debate . . .

Chrysanthemum, Issue 22, October 2017

fits just right—
the april moon
in the birdbath

Chrysanthemum, Issue 23, April 2018


bodhi tree
not a single leaf
is still . . .

The Heron's Nest - Volume XVIII, Number 3: September 2016


winter mist
of an old sea shell

The Heron's Nest - Volume XIX, Number 1: March 2017


summer moon—
the bald heads of
old friends

Frogpond  39:2, Summer 2016


fading summer light
on dangling hibiscus
friend’s lung cancer

Modern Haiku  46:3, Autumn 2015


down the hill slope—
learning to speak

Modern Haiku  48:1, Summer 2017


little butterfly
crosses the river—
wind on my face

Chrysanthemum 19, April 2016


ill in bed—
the smell of summer grasses
in dog's paw

Chrysanthemum 20, October 2016