Writing from the Road, Roseau Minnesota

7th Hour

It is Like This
By Shaylin Kartes

At band camp it is like this–

Warm air makes us crave water

Set up, run it one more time

Practice until your face feels numb

Bright sunlight bounces off of the instruments

And makes you blind

Chapped lips, sweaty hands

Collapse on the ground at break

Laugh and play

Work and grow

Come as single strangers

Leave your all on that field

About face, forward march

Rock-n-roll, back march

All week, give it your all

No more single strangers

Now we’re family.

 

Piano
by Shaylin Kartes

Piano sounds like heaven on earth

Like a thousand angels singing in harmony

Like a flute playing a lullaby

Like a storm raging in the sky

Like a stream bubbling over the rocks

Like the wind whistling through the trees

Like a mother singing her son to sleep.

 

Wind
by Shawn

 

Like someone is blowing

down a glass tube

Like you put your head out

the window of a moving car

Like whispers in your ear.

 

Dream Sound
by Hunter Ziska

It sounds like someone running across

the floor when you are in the basement.

Like the screen door slamming. Like a car

door shutting.  The stirrup hitting the fence.

Like a young kid hitting a tree with a stick.

I love to hear the sound of my horses

running in the wind.

 

Car
by Torie Petersen

Your car sounds like a woodpecker on a tree

Like horses running in a race

Like a professional tap dancer

20 crash symbols dropped in midair

all at the same time.

 

Alarm Clock
by Hannah Nelson

My alarm clock sounds like 1,000 cans dropping

Like someone is screaming in my face

Like six twelve year old girls talking

Like a car running into a building.

 

Piccolo
by Erik W.

A piccolo sounds like a siren starting to die.

It is like a pitch that shatters glass.

It sounds like someone getting a rock dropped on their foot.

It is like a banshee cry.

 

It Was Like This
by Mike Losse

Sitting around the campfire, conversing and talking

camper doors creaking, while people are dashing in

and out. Kids fishing off docks

reeling walleye out of the water.

 

It is a building, but it is something more
by Kyle Bliss

 

It is a building, but it is something more.

The church bells ring, the people sing, it is a building

but it is something more.

The pastor preaches, the gospel he teaches,

It is a building but it is something more.

The hymns ring in my ear, we sing for all to hear

it is building but it is something more.

 

It Was Like This
by IDD

As a boy came downstairs

no banister did he grab

a loud horn sounded as soon

as the sun was high in the bright blue sky.

Trains run through town

day in and day out

the movement of the train

shook the house slowly.

The boy stood still as stone

not wanting to slip on the wooden floor.

Then move again when a voice

good moving little brother.

 

It Was Like This
by Keegen Sampson

 

Chatting of the parents

Toys scattered on the floor

Children laughing, children crying

The house rumbling with running

No place to sit on the couch.

 

And now, no squeak of a mouse.

The memories are faded and forgotten

The house is dim and dying.

Names are mixed and unfixed.

She’s being fed.

And now, she’s dead.

 

Your Voice
by Rikki

A voice that sings softly to me,

It’s like pushing a spoon

through rich chocolate.

It’s like a soft whisper

in the wind at dusk.

It’s like a bird singing it’s morning tunes.

Like the smell of dark coffee beans.

Like the purr of a cat on your stomach.

It feels like heaven.

A voice that keeps me warm.

 

Lake Havasu City, AZ
by Ryden Jacobson

 

A place that’s always warm

The definition of a dream town

Boating with your buddies

And catching big waves

Chocolate ice cream

melting on the sidewalk

Helicopters high in the sky.

 

The Sound of 45 Pound Plates Clanging Together
by Hunter R.

 

They sound like fast gong hits.

Like dropping a metal bowl on the ground.

Like hitting hollow bats together.

Like bliss.

They sound like victory.

 

This Moment
by McKayla Christianson

It’s peaceful

but its raining.

Under a canoe we are sitting.

The lake is still.

First one knock

Then another.

Now it sounds like thunder.

Staying dry, as we sit under.

 

 

 

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