At dawn in the campground,
“The Sound of Music” on a flute.
I’m plotting murder.
*
Squatting to pluck puffballs
from a stump, her raincoat
pale in the dark woods.
*
Never mind how
you got here. Just sit,
O glacial erratic.
*
At the back of the store,
a free view of the stormy lake
moving three ways at once.
*
Not far from John Brown’s grave,
a state prison looms
above the larch.
*
When I open the Adirondack
pages of my notebook,
two grains of sand fall out.
This entry was posted Saturday, October 10th, 2009 at 9:52 pm, last modified at 10:10 pm, 10/10/09
and is filed under Poems & poem-like things, Travel and tagged Adirondacks, haiku. 
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Welcome home! (I assume you’re home. Perhaps you found a hotspot on the trail?)
The Adirondacks. That’s exotic where I’m from. Hope all is well.
The final haiku is my favorite. Two worlds in those two grains, maybe.
Yes, I’m back. Thanks! It was a break from the internet as much as anything. A chance to explore the hinternet instead.
I like how humans wind their way through your haiku, leaving trails.
Thanks. Funny you should mention trails, the subject of my next post…
(o)
A lovely photograph, something very haiku in the visual composition (I hope that makes sense). I like your vignettes.
Thanks, Robin. That was one of my favorite photos from the trip, though I can’t quite explain why. I remember I had to wipe raindrops off the lens and shoot quickly before more could appear.
Gorgeous photo. I hope it was a great trip! So gorgeous, those mountains.
I’m diggin’ the first haiku.
It was a very good trip, though we did lose one day of hiking to steady rain. Camping out was an adventure: it was cold and wet, and the wind blew like fury two nights. But I slept more soundly than I often do in my own bed — go figure.