Campsite Haiku

seeing jackrabbits
come right into the campsite
I belch, they scatter


infrequent raindrops
one here, now one over there
almost like weather


everything is damp
mosquitoes buzz in my ear
happy misery


a persistent rain
the wiper blades tilt and swoon
no birding today

Out camping in the Texas Hill Country until next week. It is raining today. I’m parked by the ranger’s station to leach some wifi signal. Don’t let the world go crazy without me.


What was it were we doing
before we wandered into this?

Were we sidetracked then from something else?
What was it that we missed?

And what about the thing
that had diverted us before?

The project we were doing when
the knock came at the door?

Could it be that interruptions
nested one inside the next
continue to infinity?

Do you feel a little vexed?