Adelaide B. Shaw
The Deer Highway
The deer come up through the wooded ravine behind our house, unhurriedly cross our lawn. Throughout the year they come and go, perhaps the same deer, perhaps their offspring. Travelers without a home, always seeking a safe place, following the food supply: leaves, weeds, and grasses in the warm months, berries in the fall, small twigs and branches in winter. Always following two laws of nature: to stay alive, to raise their young.
border crossing—
with her hands she covers
her swollen belly
About the Author
Adelaide B. Shaw lives in Somers, New York. She has been creating Japanese poetic forms for fifty years. Her books, An Unknown Road and The Distance I’ve Come, are available on Amazon.
Much like we, deer are creatures of habit. Your lawn is a designated safe space. Lovely picture you paint in this haibun.
Thank you, Tom.
And the hosta are a ready meal.
Adelaide
Wow, a wonderful pairing of prose to haiku, Adelaide.
Thank you, Terri
Adelaide
I always enjoy reading your work, Adelaide. What a striking, lovely piece.
Thank you, Janet. Hope all is well.
Adelaide