Asylum
By Helen Pan
The turbulent rain misted about,
cars zoomed across chasing their route.
The shadow watched, perched upon the window sill,
the breeze, so strong, bringing a sudden chill.
Drip, rip, the leak in the ceiling,
the hardwood floors, offered sounds of squealing.
The shadow watched, as the snail fought the storm,
It slugs across the wood, trying to find a place of warm.
The cars became less and less,
as people were trying to reach their address.
The snail now, half across the sill,
the storm becomes rougher and rougher, no longer tranquile.
Drip Drip Drip, the storm becomes violent,
the shadow waits, as the house is silent.
A strong gust of wind comes out the play,
carrying the snail with it, away away.
The Longest Word I Could Think Of For a Haiku
By Esther Shackelford
Hippopotamus
Waded deep in the water
Bubbles from nostrils