Appalachian Haiku

1.
smooth silver plow point
behind dusty ol’ mules –
earth parts like red sea

2.
Monday morning blues –
buckets of water to fetch
clothes need a’washing

3.
he went off up North
a snake shedding its skin –
ain’t no hillbilly

4.
twelve hours in a hole –
blackface a flash of white teeth
knockin’ on hell’s door.

5.
toothless old hound dog
scratching fleas beneath the porch –
he ain’t no daisy

6.
spikey green pine trees
itching to reach clear blue skies –
just one scratch would do

7.
dogs barking at night
lone adventurers bragging –
all furry and brave

8.
fried green tomatoes
tangy hot sizzling in lard –
the first bite wounds me

9.
hard wooden church pew
voices raised in stilted praise –
serpents and faith abound

10.
old tobacco barn
fields gone fallow forgotten –
dogs went mad last spring

**

Goose Hunt

every fall
like clockwork
the familiar formation –
peaceful victory
over fields laid bare
broken stubble and hay bales
the harvest, long gone.

summer’s fast over,
night reaching farther into day,
deeper into the here
and now, shadows longer
as they fly blind into the fray.

covering the ground, what voices –
cacophony of feathered, chattering sound;
calling and responding,
tangled wings skittering bloody ground.

look closely, you can see now,
watch the grounded wish for flight –
as they lie beneath the fence row
trapped in the hunter’s reckless sights.