Back Roads Haiku

My back roads are unpaved, quiet, undeveloped, dusty in the summer and muddy in the spring. Walk along any of them and you are likely to see old family cemeteries, stone walls, streams, ponds, and a variety of flora and fauna. It's where I live, and the source of most of these haiku.

barely maiking it

through the day

 -  a sliver of moon

marina sailboats

clang in a summer wind

cowbells of my youth


francis of assissi

someone has thrown birdseed

 - the south church statue



more shades than I can make

on this palette

loon song

diving deeper 

to the coolness


heat lightning

still joking

on his 90th birthday


younger days

cicadas used to frequent 

our summers

summer rain

the roar

of a cornfield crowd


all’s right…

morning dew

on my bare feet



in the mudroom

something to think on


these heavy dog days

…the overhead fan 


beyond reach

those tiny apples

so deep within


they moved it…


an old family cemetery

at first, just pond reeds…

the heron’s 

spindly legs


mount tom

good at holding back

darkened clouds


canoe shallows -

infinitely shaped plans

on the river bottom

trying to write…

campfire embers pulsing

in the night breeze


hazy moon


in the jazz club tonight


night river…

how it knows the words

to many old songs

morning stillness

a fishing line

into the clouds


sunlit dew

a robin 

tugs at a worm

summer wind -

tall grasses parting to tell

wildflower secrets


lake waves

against the dock

 - your hand on my back


day moon -

a pastel drawing

draws me in 

on these rainy nights

how the tall grass bends

 .. .patience


watching hawks 

glide on high winds

 - wading into ether


wild raspberries -


into my hand…

crickets -

the sharp edge 

of a near full moon

late night jazz

through an open window…

blossoms I saw today

shying away

from the waxing moon

 - sleepless roses

the way

along these moonlit backroads…

tall summer grasses


fireflies -

the way of my youthful dreams

clearer now



some moonlight shining

through maple leaves

a near full moon -

a hawk circles

a freshly hayed field


the moon’s

scattered light

…the way is still clear


late night coolness

of barefoot grass

 - linen sheets await