stolen kisses
barn swallows twitter
in the eaves
Author: Mike Farley
I live with my wife Shirlee on a cattle ranch near the little ski town of Red Lodge, Montana, and have been loving and writing haiku for several years now. I draw my inspiration from the images of the high-plains, mountains, weather, wildlife, livestock, ranch work and outdoor recreation which surround me daily.
pale moon . . .
not half the man
I used to be
50th reunion
everyone much older
than me
summer storm . . .
the warm spot where
the dental nurse leans
soft breeze–
a glimpse
of her thigh
sunny again . . .
black cows in deep snow
by the gate
frosty morning–
the foal watches its mother
nudge my pocket
frozen moon–
a third glass of red wine
before bed
red coals . . .
she persuades me
to stay in bed
alone
learning stillness
from the sandstone
leaf twister–
wrens huddle
on the porch rail
moon shadows–
the elk herd bedded down
by the highway
dry heat–
magpies raise hell
outside the courthouse
dusty road–
Grizzly hair
in the barbed wire
time with dad–
potato salad
on the headstone
timberline–
breathing hard at the top
of the switchbacks
rock slide–
a passing cloud leaves the sun
where it was
honeysuckle–
even the word
sounds delicious
pine tops sway–
a shifting dazzle of sun
on the wet grass
sleeping cat–
a soft curl of fog
over the ridgetop
first light–
the chatter of small birds
everywhere
almost summer–
new snow in all the
potted plants
morning sun …
a new shadow under
the sorrel mare
cottonwood–
a plastic dump truck
in the freckled shade
carnival–
feeling the seam
of my empty pocket
stiff wind–
the bull bares
his teeth
lupine–
a darker blue
in the hoofprints
stillness
along this snowpacked road
noises of small birds
quiet morning . . .
some of the fence
still standing
clearing fog–
reds, yellows and blues
dot the sled hill