Performing bison
a spectacle for tourists—
Roadside attraction.

Polished toothsome smile
Painted lady of the street
Cherry Thunderbird

Tailfins in a field,
tended daily by Pilgrims—
A strange farm indeed!

a sign gives warning:
no shoes no shirt no service
surprise—no wallet!

Forsaking big shoulders,
our destiny takes us West
to El Dorado.

Ahead desert looms,
the iron steed comes to drink—
Last Chance For Gas.

Awake I listen
to nearby thundering—
A room by the tracks.

Traveler's message
Hastily penned far from home:
"Wish You Were Here. . . ."

bright windows at dawn
server flashes her best smile.
pork belly sizzles.

I forgot to mention that I'd never attempted any haiku until just the last several days, so you're looking at my very first few forays.

Anticipating
the amber light I slow—
passed by a Woody.

I decided to start this blog off with a haiku (original post below). If you're unfamiliar with this terse poetic style, a Google search on the term yields some informative results. Traditionally, a haiku's subject matter tends to be simple observations of the natural world, so to devote this blog to haiku about the Mother Road (a decidedly man-made entity) is deliberately perverse or something. Here's another:

Venturesome spirits
follow the serpent west;
Joyous summer spent.

Words of light beckon.
A hum, a flash, now glowing:
Stop here—VACANCY!