Motorcycle Trip Haiku

Day 1:
Burn miles and cheeks.
Pass valleys, dams here
where I used to live.
No time to stop now.

Day 2:
Mt. Rainier squatting
amongst clouds, glaciers.
Switch backs to get there.
Switch backs to get down.

Day 3:
Front of ferry line.
Hurricane ridge caught in calm.
Night in Twilight wood.

Day 4:
Beached driftwood giants
dwarf human forms. Offshore rocks
guilty of beauty, and murder.

Day 5:
Cloudbank moves inland,
Cape Kiwanda covered up,
cigars and campfire still lit,
growler still giving.

Day 6:
Painted hills, sculpted
cliffs – but deer in road make me
too scared to inspect.

Day 7:
Twist wrist to descend
serpentine ridge road,
or ascend bent cliff,
repeat, again, again.

On the 8th Day:
My skin still senses
ocean, or maybe dreams it –
tensing at distance.