Haiku Kukai 02 Favorites
Global Haiku • Millikin University • Fall 2025
1 in a silent bedroom |
2 small cemetery Natalie Brodsky (7) This haiku is very detailed but also makes you think a little bit. I have been in cemeteries before, and it is an eerie feeling. I don’t like to think about all the dead people who are buried there. It is kind of sad to think about all the people who may not have anyone visit their graves. It is sad to know that one day we may not be remembered. This reminds me of videos I see on social media where someone goes around cleaning graves that don’t look like they have a lot of love. Even though that person may not know whose grave they are cleaning, it still gives a sense of respect to that person, and like someone still remembers them. Hope Self, Fall 2025 |
3 two cats of my own |
4 Saturday morning dew |
5 a starry night Sam Ramirez (6) Starting with number 5, the starry night makes me feel at peace, while the under streetlights line adds a hint of mystery or even fear depending on how you look at it. However, the train standing still is what pulls everything together as it shows the world is truly at peace to the point where even metal monsters lay down to sleep. Although, it could have an eerie feel to it depending on how you decide to envision the lonesome sight. Colin Arrick, Fall 2025 The magnification of the train highlights itself in this haiku. The image that specifies from the stars to the streets is barred off by the unstoppable force that is the train. When it’s stopped, and especially at night, the train becomes a wall. An impassable obstacle. There’s no way of knowing, as far as I know, when it will next move. If there is a way of knowing, I do not wish to know it. I do not wish to take away from the slight mysticism that the stopped train has. I wish to continue to not understand why the train so often stops for hours at a time, blocking intersections or staring at them in wait. “The train stands still” offers no motion. No sense of when it arrived nor of when it’s going to leave. It’s an immovable object of mystery and whimsy. I like it to stay that way. Coraline Nelson, Fall 2025 |
6 walking past you Sam Ramirez (9) This haiku is extremely relatable to me. I often walk by people I know and am plagued by the decision of whether or not I should speak to them. Are they having a bad day? Do they want to be spoken to? If they remain silent, do they have something against me? The inevitable conclusion to this question is always the same: waiting to see if they say anything. If they do, I respond as we pass each other and our days go on. If not, I’m happy I dodged the bullet, because they must have some reason they don’t wish to speak…right? Asa Pilger, Fall 2025 This haiku reminds me of when I go back to my hometown for the summer or holidays. When I go home, I typically avoid going out in public. I don’t want to see people I know because I don’t know whether to say hi or not. Specifically, this summer I went to my county fair in my hometown and saw so many people I used to know. This might be people I barely knew, but also people I used to be close friends with. In this setting, I sometimes will say hi, but it just feels different. In other cases, I may walk a separate way to avoid the person, or pretend I don’t see them, so I don’t have to say anything with the fear of it being awkward. Hope Self, Fall 2025 I talked about this one in class, but I really love this one because it reminds me of the nature of friendships and developing connections with others. There will always be people who come and go in your life, and sometimes you do see them still in your physical life, but you guys don’t ackowledge each other anymore, you are no longer part of their lives. I think sometimes that’s a beautiful thing, the coming and going of people in your life who you build different connections with, who teach you things, and who eventually, leave. Jordana Samnick, Fall 2025 |
7 a cracking branch, big round eyes Nicole Wells (4) |
8 hand in mine Emily Edwards (8) The poem shows a moment of tenderness between two people. The act of holding hands contrasts with the presence of a cane, a symbol of age and fragility. Themes of care, companionship, and the passage of time are present to me. The speaker recognizes that the person they are with is “no longer young,” showing an acceptance of aging and highlights the enduring bond that remains despite physical decline. The simplicity of the language reflects the simplicity of the moment itself, yet it carries emotional depth, showing how love and presence can bring comfort even as life inevitably changes. Chelsea Hammons, Fall 2025 The poem shows a moment of tenderness between two people. The act of holding hands contrasts with the presence of a cane, a symbol of age and fragility. Themes of care, companionship, and the passage of time are present to me. The speaker recognizes that the person they are with is “no longer young,” showing an acceptance of aging and highlights the enduring bond that remains despite physical decline. The simplicity of the language reflects the simplicity of the moment itself, yet it carries emotional depth, showing how love and presence can bring comfort even as life inevitably changes. Sam Ramirez, Fall 2025 |
9 father and sons Emily Edwards (5) The reason I like this haiku is because it is also very relatable. I used to play basketball with my dad and brothers all the time. We had a hoop in our driveway, and we would play as soon as dinner was over because that’s the first time my dad was free. We would even play past dark, until my mother called us in. This haiku brought back fond memories and that's why I liked it. Ridge Batchelor, Fall 2025 |
10 bass thumping Nicole Wells The reason this was one of my favorite haiku is because it is very relatable. Back in high school, I used to hang out with my friends very late into the night. Sometimes we would be bored so we would just drive around and listen to music, but we would always end up going to Taco Bell, because it was the only place open at that time. This haiku just reminded me of good memories and fun times with friends that I used to have. Ridge Batchelor, Fall 2025 |
11 a biting breeze |
12 turning the corner Emily Edwards (4) I really liked the imagery that this haiku gave. It reminds me of evening time walks I take with my dog, and the sun is setting but you have that golden sun that shines on your face brightly when you turn the corner of the block. The feeling of the bright sun at the end of the day shining on my face giving me a good feeling and lets me soak in the positive in my day. It gives me a happy and fulfilling feeling and the best way to end the day off with the warm sun on my skin while I go on a walk and connect with nature. Addison Weed, Fall 2025 |
13 pumpkin muffins Amanda Spotts (7) I like this one because I can really picture this. I see a red and white plaid pcinic blanket and two people enjoying some food or muffins. You are so focused on everything around you. Normally you would not notice squirrels but since you are out in nature you are able to see them. An escape from the house. Abbey Matthews, Fall 2025 This haiku is a good explanation and idea of what fall feels like. Fall is my favorite season and the smell of pumpkin muffins tops off the perfect kind of fall day. We see a lot in the movies that picnics and families get together outside during the fall time because the weather is not too hot and not too cool, it’s a perfect type of day to have a picnic outside. The line about squirrels is very fitting for the season as well because we see so many wild animals outside during the warmer seasons, squirrels are common in the area we live in and I feel we start to recognize them more when it is the season of fall because they match the fall colors (orange, red, yellow, brown) and they are mostly seen during that season too. Addison Weed, Fall 2025 They could have just said “muffins”. The specificity of pumpkin muffins right from the start sets the scene; the most likely time of year, the smells, the colors, the taste. On a picnic blanket. I expand from the orange-brown muffins to the picnic blanket separating the grass and bugs from legs and food. Surrounded by nature, in a field, forest clearing, anywhere with sun, peace, and fresh air. Runaway squirrels makes sure we’re near that forest, or at least a few trees. While in writing, we know not why they run, in my head they chase each other; or one chases the other. They run up a tree, swirling up the trunk until they disappear in the canopy. We’ll never know why, but we get to see the silly squirrels from our picnic blanket eating our pumpkin muffins. I like this image. Coraline Nelson, Fall 2025 |
14 clouds of smoke Abbey Matthews (4) This haiku is very relatable to my house at home. We also have a fire going on outside in our backyard and it just reminds me of home when I smell burning leaves or hear the crackling of the flames. The haiku also uses many visual words such as crackle and clouds of smoke. I can paint a picture in my head of what this haiku looks like. I like this because it reminds me of my home and the fall season. Addison Weed, Fall 2025 I really liked this haiku because it gave me feeling of being near the burning leaves. I felt like I could smell them and feel the smoke coming from the fire. My family does not burn leaves, but it is the Midwest, so a lot of people do. This haiku made me think of passing these piles of brush on the road or seeing smoke coming up from people’s houses. This is a small moment that is relatable for a lot of people. It feels both specific and not specific at the same time. It is a very straight-forward haiku, and I appreciate that the writer has been in the moment for something that may seem menial to a lot of people because it is part of everyday life. Sometimes, we really do need to stop and smell the roses, or, in this case, the burning leaves. Little moments can be well-described and be a favorite haiku. Nicole Wells, Fall 2025 |
15 my tennis shoes drag |
16 the sky goes dark |
17 my oar plunges the dark mirror Amanda Spotts (9) I really loved this poem because the metaphors and word choice throughout are just beautiful. I’m not really an outdoorsy person, but it reminds me of the time when I was younger that my babysitter took me and my brother kayaking. It was my first time ever going kayaking and to see the water from that low point of view was absolutely mesmerizing. The other thing it reminded me of was the song “Reflection” from the movie Mulan. It has a similar imagery throughout the water showing you your reflection like a mirror. This haiku overall made me feel very tranquil and reflective. Hannah Swan, Fall 2025 |
18 sweaty palms Amanda Spotts (8) I immediately saw my elementary school playground. There is a line of small children, including me, waiting for their turn on the monkey bars. It is warm outside. It is finally my turn. I get on and start to make my way across. About halfway across, my hands start to slip, sweaty in the summer heat. One of the summer camp counselors holds my feet and helps me the rest of the way across. I am no longer the monkey I was back then, but the memories always bring a smile to my face. Emily Edwards, Fall 2025 Reading this haiku takes me back to my childhood. I loved the monkey bars as a kid, and my dad would always be right there to catch me just in case I needed it. He supported me from afar with confidence that I could complete i,t but also with just the right amount of space to be able to swoop in and rescue me since he cares for my safety. I think the sweaty palms were a great word choice to really imagine yourself there. Grace Pelz This haiku reverted me back to a very specific childlike memory. It was valentines day, I was six years old, and I was at a parents night out event at the gym I did gymnastics at. They sat everyone down at the beginning and said, for safety purposes, if you cannot reach a bar in the gym, do not use it. However, as a kid, and a very short one at that, I was not pleased with that answer. I got my older and taller friend to pick me up and put me on the tall bar I had my sights set on. I was happily swinging, but then my hands started getting sweaty. My friend did not notice I was losing my grip, I fell backwards onto my back, and my body was completely paralyzed from my neck down. The gymnastics instructors tried to move me, but all I felt was pain. Eventually, I got taken to a hospital, and after I was evaluated they told me I had dislocated my hip. They reset my hip with no damage to my bone, thankfully, but I had to be in a wheel chair and walk with a walker for several weeks after that. I can safely say I quickly became a rule follower after that one. Hannah Swan, Fall 2025 |
19 the sound of our footsteps |
20 cold metal chair, |
21 robotucally, fingres type Chelsea Hammons (10) Although the main purpose of this haiku may have just been for humor, I see it as a deep reflection of the human experience. So often we find ourselves typing words that don’t exist by mistake, and it reminds us that we are not perfect. Oftentimes, the mistakes we make in our lives can lead to some of our fondest memories. An imperfect moment is always better remembered and looked back more fondly upon than one that was meticulously crafted to be perfect, so we shouldn’t plan things out to the last detail, but rather, we should enjoy life as it comes, even if it means we make mistakes. Asa Pilger, Fall 2025 The purposeful mistyping, though at first making me slightly irritated, made me pay more attention to how they crafted the haiku. In addition, I have always had a hard time playing the piano as well as typing correctly, so I was able to understand the mindset of the writer. Colin Arrick, Fall 2025 I really love this haiku because it caught me off guard when I first read it. When I got to the first word, I was not sure that the typo was intentional or not, but the more I read through it, the more I was amazed. I am amazed at the fact that this poem is almost entirely misspelled and yet somehow we can still manage to read the poem with no problem because our brain goes through and corrects it. I also really like how relatable the poem is. I am a very fast typer, so I frequently type “playsd” or “cnat” unironically. To see that another person also makes the same error as me shows me that it is human to make errors. On that note, I also liked that they used the word “robotically” or rather “robutacally” in this haiku. I think people view robots as something that can help take away that human error, but in this context, it makes me think the author is referring to a more dazed state in which the person typing is just going through the motions instead of paying attention. Simply because they do not care if the quality of work they produce is any good. Hannah Swan, Fall 2025 |
22 walking through graveyards |
23 i nervously knock Ridge Batchelor (4) When reading this haiku, I’m imagining that I’m walking up the steps to someone's house. I feel very nervous to meet them and their family, but also excited. I’m stressed and determined to make a good impression on them. Then once the door is opened, I feel a huge sigh of relief to see the person that I care so much about and a friendly face that I know I can rely on. You can really feel the build up when reading this one, which I really like. Grace Pelz I can relate to this haiku. When I first moved in for the semester, I didn’t know my friends’ apartment numbers. I kept frantically double-checking the texts and still felt unsure before knocking. But I’m glad I do because I haven’t gotten the wrong apartment number yet. I’m just glad that this kind of thing is a more universal experience than I thought. Nissi Bamgboye, Fall 2025 |
24 laughs and giggles Chelsea Hammons (3) |
25 birds soaring Grace Felz (4) I imagined a blue sky with fluffy cumulonimbus clouds spaced out between swaths of stratus. The birds fly in a v. angling their wings on the breeze, dipping when the wind stream deigns. They may lose their formation because the weather is unpredictable, but they always return to each other even if it takes a day. It wasn’t wondering if they have a place they are finding their way back to. Amanda Spotts, Fall 2025 The reason this haiku was one of my favorites is because I like birds and I find them fascinating. Everytime I see birds, they seem to be flying together with a ton of other birds. They are seldom alone, and flying is really cool. I also took Biology of Birds here at Millikin, and we learned about the types of formations they fly in, and I just find that to be fascinating. That is why I liked this haiku. Ridge Batchelor, Fall 2025 |
26 students walk leisurely |
27 ventilation system Nissi Bamgboye (4) When I read ventilation system, I instantly thought of the air conditioner at Millikin. I was back in the Math Center earlier this week. It was quiet. There were no students in sight, and both professors were in a class. It was just me and the other tutor silently working on homework. Well, silent except for the rattling of the air conditioner. I kept trying to work, but even with headphones on, I could still hear the rattling. It was ringing in my ear. When I left at the end of my shift, it was like I could still hear it in my ear. Eventually, the sound faded. While I am glad the air conditioning was running, as it is usually hot in the Math Center, sometimes I wish it would just run quieter. Emily Edwards, Fall 2025 |
28 the same songs Nissi Bamgboye (4) |
29 wind brushes her hair Grace Felz (4) |
30 birds calling |
31 bumpy driveway Jordana Samnick (3) |
32 a thrifted skirt Hannah Swan (8) When I read this, I think about the times I’ve wandered through thrift stores, running my hands over fabrics that once belonged to someone else. I’ve often wondered about the people who wore those clothes before me and where they came from. What moments were lived in these clothes? What parts of the previous owner were left stitched into the seams. The thrifted skirt in the poem reminds me of when I bought a white skirt to take pictures in not too long ago. I ended up wearing the long skirt as a sleeveless dress instead and took pictures in a sunflower field. It leaves me wondering how this piece was worn and used before and how I compare to the previous owner. That same feeling comes through here: wearing something with a past makes me feel connected to strangers I’ll never meet, as though their stories are woven into mine. Chelsea Hammons, Fall 2025 This haiku is very relevant to me because I thrifted the most perfect white maxi skirt from a Decatur thrift store last year. I caught my eye so fast, almost like it was waiting there for me. Thrift stores are so interesting to me because I always wonder why people donate the clothes they do. Do they not like it anymore? Are they too big? Too small? I love that we can find pleasure in someone else's discards. This skirt is now a staple in my closet and I love to wear it as much as I can. Natalie Brodsky, Fall 2025 We talked about this haiku in class, but I still really like it because it kind of shows that everyone and everything has a story. The specification of location makes me remember the times my mom and I have gone to the thrift store, seen an item of clothing, and be disappointed by the stain that is on it. Although I do not want anything with a stain, who knows how it got there? Maybe someone was eating their favorite meal with a loved one and was laughing so hard, they stained their shirt. I like how with this haiku I can imagine different stories of everyday people and maybe how their clothes ended up in the thrift store. It can be a happy but bittersweet place housing the clothes of someone’s child who grew out of their baby attire. It could also be a place of sadness and memories. There are a lot of items with personalized notes that make me wonder what happened to the owner of this item. Nicole Wells, Fall 2025 When I read this, I think about the times I’ve wandered through thrift stores, running my hands over fabrics that once belonged to someone else. I’ve often wondered about the people who wore those clothes before me and where they came from. What moments were lived in these clothes? What parts of the previous owner were left stitched into the seams. The thrifted skirt in the poem reminds me of when I bought a white skirt to take pictures in not too long ago. I ended up wearing the long skirt as a sleeveless dress instead and took pictures in a sunflower field. It leaves me wondering how this piece was worn and used before and how I compare to the previous owner. That same feeling comes through here: wearing something with a past makes me feel connected to strangers I’ll never meet, as though their stories are woven into mine. Sam Ramirez, Fall 2025 |
33 squirrel perched Hannah Swan (2) This haiku has very simple imagery that I enjoy. However, my brain does not hold onto one consistent image as I read. It’s to be expected that an image shifts throughout a haiku, it specifies, moves, but mine changes entirely. Squirrel perched is clear for me, a squirrel sitting atop a fence separating forest from yard. Contemplating has a sort of amorphous image in my mind, until coupled with his next move, in which it shifts to a cat wiggling in preparation to pounce. I don’t know why this shift is made. I can, on purpose, picture what the haiku intends me to picture; the squirrel mapping out its path, pausing and staring. There’s no reason for it to shift to cat, and yet it does, every time. It perplexes me, yet still I enjoy this haiku. Coraline Nelson, Fall 2025 |
34 a strong breeze Hannah Swan (5) |
35 trains in the clouds Jordana Samnick (5) I’ve lived in Decatur for all 19 years of my life, and so I have become very accustomed to the sound of train horns. I’ve heard them up close, I’ve heard them in the distance. I’ve heard them during class and I’ve heard them while trying to fall asleep. Where most people view them as a nuisance, though, I’ve come to appreciate the sound. It reminds me of home and that, no matter how many things change, some things will always remain constant. When I hear the train horn in the distance, I think back on all the fond memories I have of living here, and the many more that I hope to make. Asa Pilger, Fall 2025 |
36 we sit together Jordana Samnick This one is mine, and it definitely is a favorite. I originally wrote this about the stray cat, Pineapple, that stays outside my house. Every morning I go outside, call his name, and see him come trotting toward me meowing hoarsely. He rolls over and I pet him for a while, before I have to go back inside and get ready for the day. Another way I interpret this one is spending those last few moments with someone before walking away and ending the relationship, that middle line our time is up is very matter of fact, and the I go back inside suggests that is the ending of something. Jordana Samnick, Fall 2025 |
37 flying in and out Bella Griffiths (3) |
38 end of the driveway Asa Pilger I like how the poet behind this haiku described the puddle as “telling” something. Personifying the puddle made me immediately think of a puddle that always shows up at my house. At the end of my driveway, in the berm area, there is a hole that we have never filled in and that stays there day in and day out. When it fills with water or snow, it stays filled until the sun gets rid of it or until one of my family member cuts the corner too close and rolls right into the hole. Even though this poet does not have the same exact experience as me, it is interesting how similar lives can be. The haiku made me think fondly of my house and its other quirks. Nicole Wells, Fall 2025 |
39 a well-loved playhouse Asa Pilger I have a very personal connection to this one as one of my uncles gave my parents an old, worn wooden train playset. This playset has been in my backyard for as long as I remember and is finally starting to get to the point where it needs to get removed. This genuinely pains me because I will have nothing left to remember the good times I had with it. Colin Arrick, Fall 2025 |
40 no rules Bella Griffiths (7) I really like this because you could always break the rules at grandma's house. She would let you have candy before dinner, after dinner etc. My grandpa would always make us milkshakes at night before we went to bed. This was always something really special about being with them. Abbey Matthews, Fall 2025 This haiku was really nostalgic for me. It brought me back to when I was little and had sleepovers at my Grandparents house. Not only were these sleepovers fun because I got to spend time with my grandma and grandpa, two people who I very much adore, they were fun because I got the princess treatment. Though I never had ice cream for dinner with my grandparents, I almost always had a 7/11 slurpee (courtesy of my grandpa) and fast food takeout of my choice. After eating so much fun food, I always felt like I had a huge secret that I was keeping from my mom (in a good way). She always knew what I had eaten because, of course, she would talk to her parents, but I felt so grown up and privileged having a little secret of my own. Natalie Brodsky, Fall 2025 |
41 Mickey Mouse pancakes |
42 the neighbor’s sprinklers Asa Pilger (7) |
43 soft flowers Hope Self (3) |
44 evening downpour |
45 too much caffeine Coraline Nelson (7) This Haiku is so relatable. I am a coffee drinker at heart. I start every morning with a warm cup of coffee, even in the summer. Some days, I grab a second cup from Starbucks. I think the second and third lines change the meaning of the first. I could feel the exhaustion I get when I am really busy. It is like you keep working on assignments or projects, staying up late, and getting up early. You are low on sleep and still mentally exhausted even when you do get sleep. The mental exhaustion barely ever fades with caffeine, no matter how much you drink. I think this Haiku is every college student’s mantra, especially around midterms and finals. Emily Edwards, Fall 2025 This haiku I heavily relate to, especially at the moment. Some days, drinking caffeine really does help, but today is a day I feel like I am struggling to stay awake despite the energy drink I had this morning. I also really like that the second line says, “every day”, because I do drink caffeine every day, and I know I shouldn’t, but it tastes so good. This also implies that maybe you drink caffeine so much, you’ve built up a tolerance, so it no longer really does its job that you intend it for. Hope Self, Fall 2025 |
46 oh good Coraline Nelson (10) This haiku stuck out to me because of the use of the period. It is not something we normally see. This haiku describes the freedom lost when school starts. Classes starting means there is always something to be done, whether it is studying, homework, projects, or practicing presentations. Even more so if you are a college athlete, which I am. Between practicing, lifting, matches, and extra court time, it really adds up and becomes exhausting. This haiku really illustrates that feeling. Bella Griffiths, Fall 2025 Reading this poem makes me think about times when I felt powerless, as though decisions were being made for me and I had no say in the outcome. The line about losing rights echoes moments when I’ve faced rules or expectations that felt unfair, yet couldn’t be challenged. Still, like the poem, life didn’t stop. There is always the next class, the next responsibility, or the next obstacle waiting to be overcome. We must carry on, even when we’re angry or discouraged, because the world keeps moving. It reminds me that resilience often looks ordinary, like just showing up the next day, even when something important feels taken away. Chelsea Hammons, Fall 2025 This haiku feels very real to the world today and the current events going on. It feels like there’s a new disappointing thing in the news every day. But yet you still have to go to class the next day, and the world keeps on spinning. There’s nothing you can do other than keep going. I also really like the tone in this haiku, it feels very satirical and blunt. Grace Pelz This one was a class favorite, and it’s obvious why it’s relevant to students’ daily lives. Even thinking about today when Charlie Kirk was shot while debating about school shootings at a university in Utah, and students are just expected to carry on like nothing happened. Especially in this presidency, changes are being made to how people will live their lives every day. I also feel like on a larger scale this just applies to becoming an adult, lots of things suck, but as an adult with responsibilities that must be fulfilled daily, you just have to get up and get on with your day. Jordana Samnick, Fall 2025 This haiku is all too familiar. I remember last year waking up to find out the Presidential election status. I cried so hard. I wasn't expecting to cry. It honestly wasn't really out of sadness, but out of fear for myself and for others. I made myself go to class. My first class was fine because nothing was addressed. In my second class, we briefly touched it and almost the whole class started crying. We ended up doing a 10 minute meditation and getting dismissed early. This haiku shows that in a dark way, life goes on. We have to keep going no matter if we like it or not. Natalie Brodsky, Fall 2025 This was the haiku that I gave my double vote. It’s because it essentially summarizes how I’ve been feeling about... Current events to put it lightly. Things just keep happening and keep getting worse, and I can’t really do much else but head to class as usual. In short; this haiku made me feel seen, and that makes it deserve infinite votes in my eyes. Nissi Bamgboye, Fall 2025 Reading this poem makes me think about times when I felt powerless, as though decisions were being made for me and I had no say in the outcome. The line about losing rights echoes moments when I’ve faced rules or expectations that felt unfair, yet couldn’t be challenged. Still, like the poem, life didn’t stop. There is always the next class, the next responsibility, or the next obstacle waiting to be overcome. We must carry on, even when we’re angry or discouraged, because the world keeps moving. It reminds me that resilience often looks ordinary, like just showing up the next day, even when something important feels taken away. Sam Ramirez, Fall 2025 |
47 sweater weather Addison Weed (4) I can picture the leaves turning colors, the fall breeze blowing, and that first day where you think, "Man its Fall." I usually get excited to bring out my winter clothes even though I love summer. I like to drink chai, but it only feels right and "in season" to drink it in the fall. Same with pumpkin. This is a great representation of how the weather is right now. Abbey Matthews, Fall 2025
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48 alone in the yard |
49 alone in the woods Colin Arrick (2) |
50 a comforting hug |
51 pedestrians wait Natalie Brodsky (7) This haiku perfectly explains Decatur drivers. Just plain selfishness, rude, and inconsiderate. We wait patiently with smiles that go unnoticed. The drivers act like 3 seconds of stopping is such an inconvenience. Bella Griffiths, Fall 2025 This summarizes my first experience as a consistent pedestrian to a tee. While most people have common sense and courtesy, I do get the occasional driver that doesn’t seem to stop for anything. It’s really annoying, because I know for a fact that most of these drivers have also had the experience of being pedestrians. I don’t know, it felt like a, “Have some empathy for your fellow humans,” kind of thing, but I know it’s just too much to ask for some people. Anyway, this one got a chuckle out of me, so I like it. Nissi Bamgboye, Fall 2025 |
52 we fold clothes in unison |
53 silver moon Chelsea Hammons (5) A silver, round moon hangs in the inky black. Mist swaths the sky, shimmering. My feet are bathed in moonlight as well as the green path ahead of me. The trees lean in to listen to the sounds of my feet treading the moon’s trail. Each blade is softly reflecting back her wisdom. As I walk, negative thoughts crop up, but I keep walking. I follow the moonlight, trusting each step deep within my soul. It leads me to a clearing, a silvery green space glowing with hope as I rest in the fear that were revealed on my journey. Amanda Spotts, Fall 2025 |
54 ex on the sidelines |
55 jar of peppermint |
56 his children laugh Abbey Matthews (4) This haiku explains every grillout my family has. On the summer nights when we decide to have grilled food, we always play outside. Whether we are playing PIG, catch, hitting off tees, or helping with the grill. My brother and I versus our parents - spending time together is one of my favorite memories. Times like these are why I commute, and I could not move far away. Family means everything to me. Bella Griffiths, Fall 2025 |
57 dim streetlights Abbey Matthews () |
© 2025, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.