In the fall of 2024 I judged the haiku category for the 2024 Seven Hills / Penumbra Haiku Contest sponsored by the Tallahassee Writers Association. From 53 entries, I chose the following three winners. My selections, but not the following commentaries, appeared in Seven Hills Review, Volume 30, published by the Tallahassee Writers Association in the summer of 2025, on pages 93 to 97. I wrote my commentary in November 2024. Although the 2024 contest required submissions to follow a 5-7-5 syllable-count, none of the winning poems feel forced or unnatural in using this pattern. For 2025, the syllable count requirement was eliminated.
Michael Dylan Welch, judge
in the linden’s shade—
a Christian and a Muslim
sharing the silence
Cristian Matei
Bucharest, Romania
The world today needs this sort of understanding and acceptance. It could be that the silence here is a brooding reluctance to talk, but I perceive it as acceptance, taking a moment to enjoy nature together, where the silence can drown out war and friction. I’ve read, too, that the linden tree’s heart-shaped leaves are associated with the goddess of truth and love, the tree symbolizing justice. This poem does not mention the linden tree by accident.
silent garden pond
a willow’s ink disappears
in the fading breeze
Richard Matta
San Diego, California
Here, the drooping willow limbs “paint” on the surface of the pond with their reflections in the water. With the breeze, that “ink” disappears, but because that breeze is also fading, we know the image will return if we are patient. This is a poem of beauty and contentment, freshly seen.
memorial bench—
its solitary sitter
is told to move on
Scott Mason
Somers, New York
We don’t know who is telling the sitter to move on, perhaps a police officer. Such a demand feels insensitive to the reasons why the person is sitting there. It’s easy to imagine that the sitter must have known the person who was memorialized. We need never move on from the causes of grief.