RESULTS FROM 2007 ANITA SADLER WEISS MEMORIAL HAIKU AWARDS

Sponsored by the Haiku Poets of Central Maryland

Judge: Billie Wilson, Juneau, Alaska
FIRST PLACE

summer dawn
the bones of the bonfire
charred black
~Kate Bosek-Sill, Rochester, NY

A new day is dawning, and the remains of this fire remind us that yesterday is gone forever—as fully consumed as the wood (the “bones”) of that bonfire. There is a nice edge of wondering why the fire was built. The use of “bones” is not only intriguing within the haiku, but within the context of etymology, since “bonfire” comes from the medieval “bone-fire.” This is an excellent poem to be read aloud. The inner play of the long “o” sound of “bones” with the short “o” in “bonfire—the near-rhyme of “dawn” and bonfire”—and the alliteration of “b” words in the second and third lines—add layers of pleasing sound.
SECOND PLACE

whaling station—
the weight of rust
on the snowline
~Ron Moss, Tasmania, Australia

An unusual topic. The freshness of the material is appealing, and the juxtaposition is compelling. Even in abandonment, the very existence of this station “weighs” heavily against human history. The damage done is powerfully captured in understatement: that feather-light rust is like blood against the snow.

THIRD PLACE

in my pocket
a small stone
from the top of the mountain
~Karen Sohne, Toronto, ON, Canada

The use of a pivot line showcases the tiny stone that symbolizes the conquering of a mountain. And within that symbol is a gift of encouragement regarding any mountain that might seem to be blocking our path.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

1
starry night
snapping the wishbone
by myself

~Vanessa Proctor, Pymble, NSW, Australia
2
fresh snow
the cat prints
change direction

~Wanda D. Cook, Hadley, MA
3
uprooting the lilies—
he forgets what year
his father died

~Bill Pauley, Dubuque, IA
4
all the shadows
become one
winter evening

~Desireé McMurry, Franklin, MO
5
ebb tide—
a clamshell nestled
in seagull tracks

~Scott Mason, Chappaqua, NY