tap, tap

 

tap, tap, tapping haiku--

auto-correct makes it clear
as the autumn sky 

 

 

 

Elon

blood red moon --

Elon's satellites

mar the night sky      

The Fall Of Guge

within view
of the sacred snow mountain
prideful spring flowers
denied burial in the sky
flung from the ramparts


guge

the stars

gray

a day too gray -
a river in Autumn
the color of sky

fawn

Leo rammed the Grader through all the gears, racing the fire to the county line. Just in time he cut a swath parallel the gravel track - the fire had jumped one road already. There was nothing to stop it between there and Williston, fifteen miles away. // It had rained only once that entire Summer, the day I hit the fawn on County 5, in a convoy, fiddling with my wiper blades. A bad omen. The Honduran crew finished him with a pen knife, his blood soaking into the infernal dust. That night, back at the Man Camp, they feasted on its haunches under a moon turned pink by the Earth's contents, broken to pieces and churned into the air.

the heat of mid day returns to the sky -
it lingers there well into the night

give or take

There are no trees, almost, no high points, just prairie, rolling and bending through time refracted in infinite distance. Another 1000 feet in altitude and you'd be lightheaded from just a peek at it. The mountains are only a day away, give or take, a white-knuckled, non-stop pedal to the metal drive. Journeys are an assault, not only a ride. There's no other way for it.

It's the sky that pulls you in, its immediacy and its size. And with the night, the prairie becomes an ocean, phosphorescence in the dew on the grain, to float suspended above the Earth, a trick of the light moving faster than safety allows. Until you realize, on such a scale, you're not moving at all. Times like those, you're tempted to just let go of the wheel.



that big rock
highest point around --
no cell signal again

Moe Jones ::: yotsumono

` ` ;;;;;




aside from the rain
the city still beckons --
Autumn melancholy



under the best care
that your money can buy



remember Moe Jones?
his mother told us
he passed on the weekend



it's all caught on tape
by that eye in the sky

their best

a clear day --
Autumn's leaves at their best
when they start to fall

Williams County 5 Vignette

twice it plies
Little Muddy's twisting banks --
Autumn Equinox






mile markers
in every headlight --
convoy on the 13th night

alone with a mirror
trying on these cowboy hats --
Autumn sky








heat and drought,
weeks gone by and still no rain
grass as dry as tinder
an Angus calf all caught up
in a few bare strands of wire








  a river of fog
high above the coulee --
prairie greets the dawn

Williams County 5 -
pheasant children waiting
all along the road







black-tailed deer
waiting in the blowing dust,
 a last leaf falls
the only tree within
miles and miles