Category Archives: poetry

Haiku to Failed Love

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With two friends passing in the past week and another rushed to the hospital by his wife, I found myself in a melancholy mood. Because of that I wrote a haiku about failed love. It is not autobiographical in any sense. It does not involve me personally. It is a recognition of the transitory nature of some human relationships.

Photo from http://www.beach-backgrounds.com/tag/beach/.

Failed Love

It was at the beach,
We wrote our names on the sand,
Waves washed them away.

I Did It! – Monday ~ Haikus

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When I saw the picture of Sharkbytes last Friday, it got me thinking about her many posts on life outdoors and her recent hike. And that put me in the mood to write a haiku, which is something I’ve been wanting to do for a couple of weeks.

Sharkbytes hits the trail.
She left her footprints,
Crossing the be-love-ed land,
Born to live outdoors.

And soon I was thinking of the winner of Secondary Roads’ contest, Blogosphere’s Got Talent I — Lin. She writes about life in Chicago. She frequently refers to her neighborhood as Weirdsville. That triggered a mind warp. Or was it my warped mind? Can’t say. Perhaps it doesn’t matter.

Lin shows her contest-winning dance style.

Talented lady,
Wife of one, mother of two,
Exiled in Weirdsville.

I’m thankful to have friends like these and friends like you. Now I’ll have to write more for you about other blogger buds. No promise on when you might expect delivery.

Sightings ~ Turkey Vulture

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The other day as I went to get the mail, I saw turkey vultures circling the neighbor’s field. Nothing new about that. From spring to fall these fellows and their mates keep the countryside scoured of small dead animals. It is amazing how quickly they can do away with a dead critter.


We should be grateful that these natural (dare I say it?) morticians do their business efficently. You might want to eat one of the turkeys that also inhabit these parts, but I don’t think you’d enjoy lunching on one of these guys. As I pondered their place in the greater scheme of things, I came up with this haiku:

Turkey Vulture

Graceful on the wing,
Death seeker rides upon wind,
Removes the fallen.


I’m glad they’re here.

The Allure of the Road

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JRR Tolkien’s Hobbit and the Lord of the Ring trilogy are favorites of mine. I’ve read the books. I’ve listened to them on audio. I’ve watched the extended version of the trilogy on DVD. Those hobbits are amazing folks.

Bilbo Baggins, The Fellowship of the ring (2001)

“It’s a dangerous business, going out your door.
You step onto the road,
and if you don’t keep your feet,
there’s no telling where you might be swept off to.”

The road that runs by in front of our house.

I love those lines quoted above. I got thinking about what it would be like to be “swept away.” Would it just suddenly happen? Or would it be a process that unfolded over time. I think probably the latter. At least, it would have to work that way for me. I came up with these thoughts.

Allure of the Road


Once again the tug, the allure beckoned softly.
It had started with, “I wonder . . .”
Yet doubt was strong and prevailed.

Days passed, the thought returned,
“I wonder . . . why.”
Somehow, the thought was not new.

Since early childhood,
That had been the burning question.
And the answers Did not, Would not, Could not satisfy.

“I wonder . . . what.”
The mind was uneasy,
The feet were fidgety.

Hesitancy was there.
A step out the door,
“Hi neighbor, just stretching my legs.”

Weeks pass.
“I wonder . . . if.”
“Why, What Where, When.”

The tug, the allure were always present,
Growing in strength,
Doubt weakened.

Hesitancy fluttered,
Fear sputtered,
Feet walked out the door.

Years passed before they returned.

Chuck of Secondary Roads (2009)

Sunday School ~ Memorial Day

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Psalm 116:15
Precious in the sight of the LORD
is the death of his saints.
(NIV)

Memorial Day

With tears in his young eyes,
he stood beside his mom.
The preacher spoke the words,
beside the fresh-dug grave.
Inside the flag-draped box,
a father lay at rest.
His fresh pressed uniform,
showed his proven courage.
Loving hand now lay still,
no more to serve and give.
The bugler blows clear tone,
the lad stands tall and straight.
The shots sound loudly forth,
the youngster covers ears.
Proud young men fold the flag,
they give it to the mom,
“From a grateful nation . . .”
Casket goes into the earth,
as hot tears, like rain, fall.
Then flower petals thrown,
adorn the warrior’s grave.

His son will follow him,
with heart that’s brave and true.
Will he go in harm’s way?
Will blood-bought peace prevail?
May God grant the lad life,
in his peace-blessed homeland.

Memorial Day, 2009
Chuck on Secondary Roads

Tree Frog

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Photo courtesy: www.michigan.gov

Gray Tree Frog

Tree frog there you sat,
You moved and then I saw you,
Hiding in plain sight.

Red-Winged Black Bird

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These neighborhood regulars are easy to identify both on the wing and by their distinctive whirring call. They jealously guard their territory.


Red-Winged Black Bird

He breaks forth in song,
Shining black wing with red band,
On his claim stands guard.

A Spring Walk

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On Saturday, we grew restless. I picked up our old (very old, low res) Kodak digital camera and started for the door. Sylvia asked, “Where are you going?” I replied, “I’m going to walk along the road to see if that log down by the low ground is still poking out of the roadway.” “Mind if I come along?” she inquired. “Get your coat, and let’s go,” was my answer.

Years ago, the county placed some 3 to 4 inch diameter logs across the road to stabilize it where it went through some low (usually wet) ground. Winter freeze had popped one of these up to where it was clearly visible in the middle of the road. Because my main camera is not functioning, I had not captured a photo.

When we got down to the road, I could see that the county road crew had recently graded the road and had put down a new layer of dirt and gravel. It proved to be just as I feared, the log was no longer visible. Sylvia said, “Let’s walk around the corner and see Meghan’s new lambs.” I was all for that as I could already picture the day when one of them would end up in our stew pot.

A few minutes later we could see the lambs and the ewes enjoying the early spring sunshine. Unfortunately, they were on the other side of the pasture lot. The old Kodak camera only has a 2 to 1 zoom ratio, and with low res I wouldn’t capture a suitable image.

Soon the pasture guard came over to check us out. The guard is taller than we are, but she lives up to her name, Grace. I took a couple of steps back as Sylvia greeted Grace.

Honduran sun gave Sylvia a good tan.


Soon our visit was over and we cut across a field to our yard and back home. It had been a very pleasant walk.

We wore our winter coats. The air was cool.

Earliest Spring

Lead-gray sky above,
Thick clouds sent from the great lake,
Earth is cold and damp.

I was late posting today. I woke up yesterday with a lot of pain in my lower back. Today, I’m feeling better.

It Doesn’t Exactly . . . Explained ~ Or Not

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On Monday, I posted the poem, “It Doesn’t Exactly . . .” I asked for your help to identify what “it” is. The truth is that I didn’t know then and don’t know now for sure what the poem talks about. And, in case, your wondering, yes, I was (and am) in a legal state of mind.

Thanks to these folks for their guesses:
Bryant, Jill, Armando S. Cabral, Anonymous and Meghan.

They all gave excellent answers. Each is well reasoned. I liked Bryant’s answer (case of vertigo), and Jill’s too (time machine).

When I saw Armando’s answer (map to nowhere), I thought, “That must be what it is.” Perhaps it is a featureless map with an X for “You are here,” and another X for “It is here.” (Whatever “it” is.)

Then Anonymous suggested a book. That’s possible, it fits the description. Especially if it’s a blank ledger book.

Well, I’ll have to think about it. You all have helped me zero in on the possibilities. Do you suppose it could be a featureless map to nowhere that has been placed in a case of vertigo aboard a time machine and shows you where to find the blank ledger book?

Perhaps my friendly neighbor and fellow blogger, Meghan, can come over and help me find it. Her response was: “I guess we’ll have to stop by and see for ourselves!” I seem to have misplaced the thing — whatever it is.