Hi Friends,

Each summer for the past twenty-one summers I have journeyed from Woodstock, NY to Elmer, NJ to become head counselor and theater director at Appel Farm Arts Camp. So, until the end of August I will not be walking on Yerry Hill Road. However, for those that are interested, I will still be publishing haiku on my site Haiku to You. It's address is:
http://haikutoyouto.blogspot.com/

Cloudy gray morning;
Pickup roars loudly by
Leaving smell of gas.

Buttercup feather
Shivers under yellow bloom.
Soft end of the day.

Balloon on a pole
Has slowly lost its pizazz;
No more block party.











Sun brushes the woods
With softness at the day's end.
Even shadows smile.

Shadow on the moss,
Sharp and distinct as the leaf;
Swift imprint of light.




Even leaves don't move;
Everything's still, in the woods--
Motionless shadows.

Who's walking in front?
He has no face or features.
How could that be me?










Milkweed at sunset
Takes in soft rays of the sun.
Soon the buds will burst.

Telephone pole ghost--
Now you see it, now you don"t;
Was it really there?

Sun glistens on leaves;
Rain is over, sky is blue;
Dove sits on a wire.

Everything is green,
Only the shadows are black
(And the pale blue sky).

A soft high humming
Emerges from the white blooms.
Bees are satisfied.








Meadow in the woods,
Emerald green in the darkness;
Sun and rain have won.

Ringing in the woods
High above animal sounds;
Could be life, itself.

Small hanging lanterns
Poised delicately on their stems;
It's deadly nightshade.








Dark imprints of leaves
Etched on the lighter tree trunk--
A moment's shadow.

Patches of sunlight
Illuminate the forest--
Play of light and dark.

Not a ray of sun;
Everything has a blue cast;
Birds speak quietly.

There are no shadows,
No play of sun among leaves--
Democratic light.











Today's a white day--
White flowers bloom all over
Cutting through the gray.








Patch of soft white blue
Lifts the darkness from the woods--
Whisper of color.














Poised in attack mode
Small spider waits on the road
To vanquish a car.

The ancient tree trunk
Joins its partner forever;
A dark dignity.

Buzz saw far away;
Invisible bird calling;
Running stream bubbles.

A gentle breeze blows;
The sky is gray mixed with blue;
Voices from far off.

Pile of strewn white fluff
Lies scattered by the road side--
It once was a bird.

A silent brown flash--
White tail bounds into the woods.
Was it a mirage?

Resting on tree trunk,
Some moss adds green to the brown--
Life nourishes life.











Standing in the field:
Abandoned washing machine--
Nature's flower pot.


Where do shadows go?
Now they mark the bend in road,
Now they've disappeared.









The forest is dark
Even though it's almost noon.
The tree stump seems pleased.


"Do fresh" the words say,
Printed on discarded cup
Lying "fresh" in ditch.

Afternoon shadows
Fall lightly on road and field.
Earth takes a deep breath.

Stick mound in the field;
Willy nilly pile of limbs--
New home for creatures.








Rusty tree stands tall
Clear against surrounding green--
A soft compliment.








Bright patch of sunset
Lies glowing just off the road,
Soon will disappear.

Small trumpet flowers
Purse their white petaled lips
Waiting to be popped.








Hanging in mid air
Working its way to the sky:
A dreaded inch worm.

Strutting wild turkey;
Deer leaps softly into woods;
It is twilight time.

Cyclist rushes past
Goggles fixed, head to the road;
Could be anywhere.

Standing on two feet
Goat is sure that he's human;
Height is everything.

Shadows turn with road,
Disappear around the bend.
Wind rustles softly.











Three balls in the grass
Surrounded by green stillness
With no place to go.

Tiny blue flowers
Appear from nowhere in woods.
They seem very shy.

A lone blue flower
In a flurry of yellow--
Each defines other.

Small hole in the rock--
Dark and mysterious cave;
What creatures live there?

Patterns light and dark--
Sun dashes against the leaves;
Shadows make the woods.


Sparkle by the road;
Light trickles on the stream's back.
The two liquids join.

Green, star shaped and spiked
It stands alone by the road:
Unsociable plant.











White blob under plant;
What is this moist strange substance?
Some say fairy spit.

Thick sweet smell of spring;
Purple blooms line my driveway;
A white butterfly. Dandelion puffs
Mark the onset of summer;
A bird chirps softly.

The stream is lazy;
Water sitting in the sun;
Leaves gently blowing.

There's a stillness now,
A softness in the breezes;
Small birds chirp gently.

A patch of green light
Illuminates the forest;
Trees stand quietly.

Bright splash of yellow,
Neighbor to the giant fern
Enlivens roadside.

Buzzing round my head
Wanting something I can't give--
A God-damned deer fly.

A path of shadows
Weaves through the darkened forest
Destined for nowhere.

Pattern on the road
Left by an avian bomber
(Did not see its work).









Like a bolt of doom
Baby turtle was struck down
By unseeing car.








Perfect pointed leaves
Spread out--a star by the road--
Green geometry.

Sunlight through lilacs
Make the purple buds sparkle;
Soon smell will burst forth

Throughout the green
Little blue flowers pop up
And say "Look at me!"

Silly white puppy
Doesn't realize it's outside,
Still tries to escape.




Fairies in the woods
Stop to catch the morning light,
Turn blue with delight.

Flowering treetops
Give a bouquet to the sun
And try to kiss it.

Feather in the road
Blown back and forth by the cars
Still stuck in its place.

Everything is still;
This moment there are no sounds--
Then a lone bird sings.

Deer crossing the road
Stop, stare and then disappear.
Were they ever there?

Crisp May morning wind
Trembles the leaves and bushes;
Man bends to the grass.

Smiling at the sky
Dandelion reflects sun.
Shines right back at it.













Shadows cross the road
Weaving a web of dark shapes
Indistinctly sharp.

My battery's dead;
Camera refuses to work--
I have just my eyes.

Prancing tree shadows
Shimmy darkly on the road;
They dance to the wind.

Reared against the hill
Tree sends roots back to the bank--
Defies gravity.

Puffs float through the air--
Gray white phantoms of the day;
Some will land and grow.

Kids shout, rooster crows;
New white flowers on the tree;
Plane buzzes up high.

Flurry of color;
Endless jungle of yellow--
Forsythia is.

Bending in the wind
Small white flowers on tall stems;
Who says they are weeds?

White lilacs are first
With billowing bloom and smell;
Purple cousins wait.

Huddled together
Little blue flowers blossom
In the shady woods.


















Small green umbrellas:
Maple leaves point to the ground
Waiting for water.










White in the wildness
Tree bursts forth in the brambles
Heedless of fences.













Lush cliff in the woods
Guided softly by the trees;
Nice to take a leap.

Squished in the road--
One frog that did not make it;
Now a Rorschach test.







Lying by the road
Two empty cigarette packs:
Chain litterer.

Tip of the bare branch
Green bud begins to unfold--
Languid blossoming.

Freaked caterpillar
Frantically crosses the road;
How will he make it?

Tiny white beacons
Illuminate the forest;
They will fly away.