I’ve been studying and trying to understand the art of haiku. It’s the first time I’ve ever really studied and tried to learn any particular poetic form. I also love the redneck haiku I’ve seen on the ‘net – how can you not, especially if you’ve lived it? And it’s funny.
So. I’m trying to meet in the middle. Serious haiku, but coming from the heart – well, at least the liver - of the American South.

These four are called ‘Bulletin Board’

Dusk light, dogwood glow,
silk of shift from fourth to third,
tar to dirt, river road.


Beloved Gramaw
puts sliced ripe homegrown
tomatoes on the table.



Still dark – wake to coffee smell.
Men in kitchen laugh.
Soon, white-tail will fall.


Scent of wintergreen,
pine, Vap-o-rub, I sleep well.
I will wake to warmth.


“One may be the loneliest number, but it’s also the least likely to lead to homicide.”
Xo
-s