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.

crescent moon -

the subtle clicks

of falling leaves

    ____

yellowed cornstalks -

a farmer’s hands

in origami

    ____

maples reds

a lone crow

in a fashion statement

cloud shadow

on the foothills

… slowly in autumn

    ____

again 

my childless home

 - distant falling leaves

    ____

early foliage -

her pose on a stone wall

against the maple

milkweed seeds -

drifting off

in a hammock

    ____

questions tonight

about faith

… new moon

    ____

autumn twilight

ink drawn crows

in silent flight

equinox

always the last summer flowers

as a centerpiece

    ____

saying goodbye

he seems distracted

… autumn wind

    ____

not enough

this sliver of moon

-  silent river

a field 

of goldenrod

taunting the dark blue sea

    ____

summer fading

out here leaves are turning

in my own mind

    ____

now, more than ever…

those summer boats

through sunlit waters

first frost -

suddenly

my graying beard

    ____

by the old graveyard…

the first of many

falling leaves

    ____

walking home

an old song

from the river below

autumn winds

orchard fragrance

from her clothes

    ____

a horse’s head

at once up and alert

 - changing clouds

    ____

when I come back…

the rich, lasting hue

of autumn clover

late summer rain

with only a threadbare shirt

a smiling scarecrow 

sunday visitors

an apple slice

between thumb and blade

often

as autumn approaches… 

a quiet moon

    ____

lakeside

one camp lantern competes

 - waning moon

    ____

this dragonfly

still young at summer’s end

…where to now?

where two streams meet…

maple leaves

beginning to turn

    ____

a warm, woolen blanket

cool orchard

through an open window

    ____

shorter days -

a few leaves

rest in the hammock

feeling tired -

through breezy leaves

the waxing moon

    ____

on the cusp

of autumn…

morning dew lingers

    ____

a child’s reach -

sunflowers

to evening stars

mugginess -

one pumpkin

immovable

    ____

distant thunder

a barely audible lullabye

to his grandchild

profile

of a half moon

… oak leaves

    ____

herb garden 

in the dark…

the mint beneath our feet

    ____

night lake -

our moon 

stretching

familiar stream -

the cool bed sheets

that await me

    ____

sunflowers

strain to gaze 

at this last summer moon

    ____

what’s left

in a once rich garden… 

… bumping hips, walking home