Adirondack haiku

near Ampersand summit

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.

Dave Bonta (bio) crowd-sources his problems by following his gut, which he shares with 100 trillion of his closest microbial friends — a close-knit, symbiotic community comprising several thousand species of bacteria, fungi, and protozoa. In a similarly collaborative fashion, all of Dave’s writing is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License. For attribution in printed material, his name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact him for permission to waive the “share alike” provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).

9 Replies to “Adirondack haiku”

  1. 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.

    1. 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.

    1. 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.

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