David E. LeCount

The old gloves
hold the same wrinkles worked
into my hand

Just 20 miles from the Silicon Valley, the little village of La Honda has long served as a counterpoint to the frantic high tech lifestyle. From the regulars who hang out on the porch at Apple Jack's (motto: We eat puppies) to the readers and writers who hang out at La Honda's monthly Lit Night (motto: Drink hearty and read something) to the musicians who seem to be playing everywhere at all times (motto: The best music you never heard), the town has long been an alternative outpost.

Picture window —
a hummingbird stares at me
in my cage

David E. LeCount, whose haiku has appeared on tea bottles all over the world (Ito En tea, Teas' Tea), now has a lovely new book called La Honda Journal: a haiku diary. It's a gentle, funny, and very wise reflection of family, love, children, and the rural life.

Digging for "treasure" …
two boys hushed having found
a rusted square nail

David has frequently joined Lit Night at Cafe Cuesta to down a beer and read a poem or two.

To write, the old waitress
takes the pencil behind her ear
and tongues the point

I want to quote them all, but I'll stop now. Read them and you'll go to a place where fat frogs sink the lily pads, where a woman's hair blows across her lips as she's saying good-bye, where piglets climb tumbling over your foot as you shovel their wallow. You'll be glad you came.… (more)