Haikus on Americana

Rain mist like toner 

A wall of little droplets 

Falls on the pickup. 

Chicken noodle soup 

With noodles big as my thumb 

Grilled cheese on the side. 

Conversations on 

Poetry and nice small towns

Where the men stop off 

For cigarettes and 

Coffee between shifts at work,

Where life is tough 

But so so quiet 

These routine existences

These country motions 

That hum, motorized 

Bicycles, and lumber yards,

Tractors and trailers 

Lawn mowers and cows,

Born in locally farmed pens,

And free range humans

Wandering out there beyond

The pastures and hills,

Where one world becomes 

A whole different place in

The blink of an eye. 


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