What Is a Good Thanksgiving Haiku? Eight Examples, and How to Write Your Own (2026)

What Makes a Thanksgiving Haiku Good?

A haiku is a three-line poem, usually counted 5-7-5 in English, built from two images with a break, called a cut, between them. One of those images places the poem in a season. On Thanksgiving that job is easy: a turkey, a pie or a kids' table tells the reader the date at once, so the word "Thanksgiving" (three of your seventeen syllables) is almost never needed.

The harder part is the gratitude. The holiday is about being thankful, so the temptation is to say so. But a haiku that names its feeling has nothing left to show. Gratitude in a haiku is shown by attention: if the reader can see exactly what you noticed, the grandmother's hands, the extra chair, they understand why it mattered, and "thankful" becomes the one word the poem does not need.

Thanksgiving also gives you people, which most haiku seasons do not. A poem about a cousin asleep on the couch belongs here as much as one about wild geese. When a haiku laughs at people rather than observing nature, Japanese poets call it a senryu, and a Thanksgiving table is full of senryu.

Eight Thanksgiving Haiku Examples, Counted

All eight are ours, written for this post, and each counts 5-7-5. The first four lean quiet, the last four lean warm or funny, and the kid-friendly ones are marked.

steam from the gravy
my grandmother's hands still know
how much is enough

Steam (1) from (1) the (1) gra-vy (2) is five; my (1) grand-moth-er's (3) hands (1) still (1) know (1) is seven; how (1) much (1) is (1) e-nough (2) is five. "Still" carries the whole poem: she is older, and something has not changed.

the folding table
an extra chair from next door
one more plate this year

A new partner, a new baby, a friend with nowhere else to go. The poem does not say who. The borrowed chair says someone was welcomed.

wild geese overhead
my father carves the turkey
the way his dad did

Wild geese are a traditional Japanese autumn season word, and migration sits quietly beside a habit passed down. Two images, a cut after line one.

her recipe card
in pencil, the stains and all
we follow it still

Rec-i-pe is three syllables. The poem never says she is gone. "Still" and the pencil tell you, and the cooking is the gratitude.

late autumn sunset
the kids' table argues on
long after the pie

The light is going and the dessert is gone, and the cousins have not noticed either. (Kid-friendly.)

first frost on the car
we drive the whole day to eat
at my sister's house

First frost is a late-autumn image. The long drive for one meal is the measure of how much the meal matters.

after the dinner
the dog under the table
is the most thankful

A senryu, and the one place in this post where "thankful" earns its spot, because it belongs to the dog. (Kid-friendly.)

I trace my whole hand
and give the turkey feathers
the colors of fall

Every American classroom makes the hand turkey. Writing about the making, not the turkey, is what turns it into a haiku. (Kid-friendly.)

A Weak Draft, Fixed

Here is the Thanksgiving haiku almost everyone writes first:

Thanksgiving is here
I am thankful for my food
I love Thanksgiving

It counts perfectly: Thanks-giv-ing (3) is (1) here (1) is five, I (1) am (1) thank-ful (2) for (1) my (1) food (1) is seven, and I (1) love (1) Thanks-giv-ing (3) is five. It is still not a haiku. It names the holiday twice, it names the feeling instead of showing it, and "my food" is not an image anyone can picture, so there is nothing for a cut to divide.

So start from one thing you could see. The pie is nearly gone. Your nephew wants the last piece and so do you. Then write only what happens:

the last of the pie
my nephew and I split it
with two forks, no plate

• Line 1: the (1) last (1) of (1) the (1) pie (1) = 5
• Line 2: my (1) neph-ew (2) and (1) I (1) split (1) it (1) = 7
• Line 3: with (1) two (1) forks (1) no (1) plate (1) = 5

No "thankful," no "Thanksgiving," no "love." But the reader is in the kitchen at nine at night, sharing something small with someone they are glad to have, and that is the poem the first draft was trying to be.

How to Write Your Own in Five Steps

1. Pick one moment you could actually see or hear. Not "my family" but one person doing one thing: your uncle asleep in the recliner, the timer going off, the gravy boat passed the wrong way.
2. Let it stand for the season. That image is your season word (in Japanese, a kigo). The turkey tells the reader the date, so skip "Thanksgiving" and "November."
3. Set a second image beside it. A sound, the weather, a person, a small movement. The feeling lives in the gap between the two images.
4. Cut the feeling words. Delete "thankful," "grateful," "blessed" and "love." If the poem goes flat without them, the image is not specific enough yet; make it more specific.
5. Count to 5-7-5 and trim. Say each line out loud and count the beats. Cut "the" or an adjective before you cut an image. Our guide to counting syllables in a haiku settles the tricky words (Thanksgiving is three; grandmother is three; family is three or two, depending on how you say it, so count it the way you say it).

40 Thanksgiving Season Words to Start From

Japanese haiku poets keep their season words in a reference book called a saijiki, sorted into the same few categories. Here are forty for Thanksgiving and the end of autumn around it. Pick one, and only one, per poem.

Category	Words
Sky and weather	first frost, cold rain, November wind, early dark, gray sky, the first snow, bare trees
Time	the night before, Thursday morning, the long drive, the day after, late afternoon, the last light
Places	the kitchen, the kids' table, the airport, grandmother's house, the back porch, the parade on TV
People	the host, the cousins, an aunt, the friend with nowhere else to go, the one who carves, the empty chair
Things	turkey, gravy boat, wishbone, leftovers, folding chair, recipe card, the good dishes, a hand turkey
Harvest and creatures	pumpkin pie, cranberries, squash, corn, persimmon, wild geese, fallen leaves

Persimmon, wild geese and fallen leaves are true autumn kigo in Japan. "Empty chair" is not a season word at all, but it is the image behind a lot of real Thanksgiving poems; if your table has one, the poem may already be there. For more late-autumn words with their meanings, see our guide to writing an autumn haiku.

Is Thanksgiving an Autumn or a Winter Haiku?

Most Americans feel Thanksgiving as the end of autumn, and English-language poets usually write it that way. The Japanese almanac that haiku season words follow disagrees: winter begins at ritto, which falls on November 7 in 2026, so a poem set on November 26 is formally a winter haiku. Japan has its own November holiday of thanks, Labor Thanksgiving Day on November 23, which grew out of an old rice harvest festival, and Japanese saijiki list it as an early-winter season word.

For your own poem, follow the window, not the book. If the leaves are still falling where you live, write autumn. If there is frost on the car, you already have your season word.

Tips for Writing Thanksgiving Haiku With Kids

• Start from one thing on the table. Have each child pick a single dish or object and describe only that. It gives everyone a real image before they write a word.
• Ban "thankful." Ask what they are grateful for, then ask what that person or thing looks like doing something. That answer is the poem.
• Clap the count together. Read each line aloud and clap once per syllable. It catches the surprises (Thanks-giv-ing is three) and turns counting into a game.
• Let them be funny. A senryu about the dog waiting under the table teaches the same form as a haiku about wild geese, and more kids will finish it.
• Make it a place card. Write each guest a haiku about something they do. It is the rare school assignment that ends up on the table.

Common Thanksgiving Haiku Mistakes

• Naming the feeling. "Thankful," "grateful" and "blessed" tell the reader what to feel instead of letting them feel it.
• Listing the menu. "Turkey, stuffing, pie" is a grocery list. Pick one dish and give it something to do.
• Writing "Thanksgiving." Three syllables spent telling the reader the date the turkey already told them.
• Going general. "My family" is a category. "My aunt's laugh from the kitchen" is a person.
• Rhyming. Haiku do not rhyme, and chasing one ("pie" and "sky") usually costs you the image.

If this is your first haiku of any kind, our guide to writing haiku covers the rest of the form. If you wrote a Halloween haiku last week, the method is the same; only the porch has moved to the kitchen.

All example haiku are original to this post. 17on is made by IROIRO, LLC, which publishes this blog, and its pricing and availability on the App Store and Google Play were checked on November 5, 2026.

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