5th Hour

The Woods
by Jonah H.

I am in the woods

walking between the

big old trees and

grown up bushes,

when I look up

I see parts of

the painted sunrise

in the sky.

When the sun comes

up I feel a

warmth over my body

as I walk the old

gravel road back

to grandma’s and grandpa’s.

 

Sound
by Nathan Adrian

The holeshot of a dirtbike race sounds

like angels singing

like a basketball going through

a net

like birds singing in the morning

like music I could fall asleep to

like a combination of Fergie and Jesus

and like the waves in an ocean.

 

Fishing 
by Alex

A sound I really like

when I’km fishing is the sound

of the drag of the reel squealing

when I hook up with a nice fish.

And then the sound of the fish flopping

on the boat.

 

Fire
by Kylee Johnson

A fire sounds like pop

rocks popping in my mouth.

Like a stick breaking off

a tree in the wind. Like a

flag blowing rapidly.

Like a new pop being opened

constantly. Like a quiet

lullaby.

 

Neverland
by Kylee Johnson

It is like this–

stars and colors in

the shape of a stingingly

beautiful tritans

on the waves of wonder

and worship.

 

Bright orange–like sand

brittles out the beautiful

colors that the sky conjugates

up to the coming of Peter Pan.

 

Flag Island
by Trevor Grand

During the day it is rougher.

During the night it is calm and quiet.

The sound of calm waves puts me to sleep.

Fresh air tastes so good.

 

Sleep
by Trevor Grand

The sound of waves hitting rocks

or a sandy beach is a mellowing

sound that could put me to sleep.

 

Sitting outside hearing the crickets

and the frogs chirping throughout

the night

feels like a soft blanket

is slipping over me.

 

I Like Walking Outside
by Luis

I like walking outside on a warm day

seeing ducks slowly making their way to the

pond with warm yellow sun reflecting

off their feathers and revealing all of the other

colors within.

Once making it to the pond they swim for hours.

I like watching them come out with their soaking wet bodies

and they sit out to get dry.

 

Your Voice
by Luis

 

Your voice is worse than a rat being struck with a knife.

Worse than nails on a chalkboard.

About as bad as a baby in the middle of the night.

Worse than a pack of guinea hens squawking as loud as possible.

Worse than teeth grinding on a fork.

8 baby goats that are hungry.

But no matter how annoying I say your voice is

your still my friend.

 

Joey
by Seth Pederson

Your voice sounds like angels singing

like whales speaking

like the summer wind brushing through the leaves

like chimes dinging

like birds mocking

like a placid rain hitting the ground.

 

Oboe
by Teagan Morrison

An oboe sounds like 12 four year-olds screaming at the same time

like scratching a chalkboard with a machete

like a goose being hit by lightning

like two pieces of Styrofoam  being rubbed together

like fixing an engine with a blowtorch and a sledge hammer

like a drowning duck getting attacked by a crocodile.

 

Here
by Matthew Dahl

The yard was still as we pulled in.

The porch creaks as we walk up.

The door squeals as it opens.

The house is empty. It is dark.

The memories hit me like waves against the water.

 

Ice
by Brennan

I like the sound of the rink at 6 a.m.

in the morning. When no one else

is around and every stop you

make sounds like an echo of

breaking glass.

 

Fishing
by Nathan Adrian

Sitting on the boat

baking in the sun

everyone having fun

with family

with friends

the rod tip bends

the water splashes

the fish flops

and the smiles grow.

 

The Sweet Spot
by Lyv Moser

Tied three to three

Two down. The count

is full. High outside

ptitch. The blue bat

strikes the ball

in the sweet spot.

A beautiful ringing sound

a perfect pop.

The crowd cheering

like chimes being dropped on cement.

 

It Was Like This, Hays Lake
by Morgan Groenhoff

 

All waking, wanting to

walk to the water.

 

Early birds chirping

and the docks clanking.

 

Seeing the sun rise

from the top of the treeline.

 

Having a safe and

serene spot to stay.

 

Daycare Kids
by Lauren Johnson

 

The kids are like the sound of metal forces

on a glass plate.

Like a freight train that doesn’t end.

Like a fresh litter of puppies.

Like mosquitoes that buzz in your ear

and don’t go away.

Like the dog that doesn’t go to

sleep at night.