Haiku time

It’s Haiku time.  Here we go:

 

A dragon breathes fire
A human does not breathe fire
Dragons are better

 

When I spilled my milk
I couldn’t stop crying–so
I stopped drinking milk

 

Trees don’t run, even
When you close your eyes and ask,
“Where did the trees go?”

 

The world is made of
Little Haikus that rarely
Count their syllables 

 

Fly too high and your
Wings will melt–then you’ll have to
Take the bus to school 

 

People are always
Falling in love–forgetting
Directions at home 

 

The traffic was an
Old janitor who made us
Walk to class. Bastard. 

 

Feel free to send me your own haikus.  If they’re good enough, I’ll print them out and bury them in a time capsule.  Then I’ll write a poem about it:

I buried all your
Haikus. I don’t remember
Where. Please help me dig.