A Maine Holiday (in Haiku)
You can find a little poetry in even the most harried family vacations.
By Paul Doiron
Car full of children.
Packed and ready to motor.
What?! You need to pee?
First stop, L.L. Bean.
Everyone has the same plan.
We park miles away.
What’s the hold up here?
Traffic slowing to a crawl —
A moose in the road.
Three days pouring rain.
Only one thing could be worse:
Four days pouring rain.
Maine at a snail’s pace —
stuck behind a big RV.
The way life should be?
We dreamt of Maine clams.
At the waterfront clam shack . . .
In rolled the red tide.
Bug bites on my neck.
Blackflies swarming everywhere.
So where are the trout?
A whale watching cruise —
Boat rocking on the high seas.
God bless Dramamine.
Vacation over,
but we want to stay in Maine.
Perhaps retirement?
Morning mist rises,
afternoon storms settle in.
Yay for museums!
At the next table,
Could it possibly be him?
Looks like Stephen King.
Cadillac sunrise:
Bar Harbor catches the light,
then the fog rolls in.
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