Monday, November 25, 2013


Here's a few Baiku I wrote recently, just lying around on scraps of paper. All composed and recited while riding. Yeah, I get funny looks. I don't care.

Indian summer
Ends with whiskers rimed in frost
And forecast for rain.

Pumpkins carved last night
Front walk blanketed in leaves
Our invitation.

Pavement, gravel, yes
On my Sunflower yellow
Ocean Air Rambler.

Count the syllables
Ram-bler, Ram-bl-er, who knows
Either way I ride.

1 comment:

  1. stopped to scrape clean
    a leaf-slippy cyclepath
    bike waited in bush