Title TBD

The Factory, a haiku

Five golden tickets

Chocolate, ginger smiles

Artists behind glass

Market, a haiku

Meat and treats and fruit

Stalls and vendors line the street

Brick road, winter rain

New Year’s Day, a haiku

A new year is here

Frozen lake, ground like tundra

The winter sun shines

Speed, a haiku

My eyes, watery

My ears, ripping, rushing wind

Faster than lightning

The Peregrine.

I crest the hill at 70 miles an hour. On the down slope I can see the town miles away and below me. 

The road is cradled by steep basalt walls and uninterrupted by driveways or arterials. 

Animals don’t cross here.

It is arrow straight.

In a word, perfect.

It’s dark, there’s no moon in the sky tonight and no headlights or taillights ahead of me. 

4th gear, throttle down.

5500 RPMs. 15 pounds of boost.

5th.

90 miles an hour.

100.

A little more throttle.

110.

120.

I let off the throttle and clutch in, the blow off valve hisses and I shift to neutral and let gravity take over.

The engine drops to 950 RPMs. The exhaust mellows to D flat.

I am a child of gravity, speed is my toy and scribbled on the walls is V=d/t.

For the next few moments I’m not driving.

Now I am a missle. 

I’m a shooting star.

125 and change.

I’m a Peregrine.

The road evens out.

120.

110.

The wind is still rushing over my sleek, silver shell.

100.

I’ve cleared the cut. Headlights in the distance.

90.

80.

I push the shifter into 5th, clutch out.

75.

The engine RPMs rise and the exhaust tones jump to higher notes, like a cat that startles awake with a meow. 

70 miles an hour.

The headlights and I pass each other. 

And I long for the next time.

Night rain, a haiku

Pouring down, splashing

Falling loudly from my roof

Winter round the bend

First heron, a haiku

Ah! Great blue brother

How good to see you again

But, has winter gone?

Birthday wishes for Mom, a haiku

Happy birthday Mom

No gift can ever equal

That which you gave me