Down At The Crossroads

I sang away my life’s blues on this old guitar from New Orleans to Montreal. When I came to the crossroads, I got down on one knee and praised the Lord for a safe journey. I had retraced, in reverse, the path of my ancestors. Some of the earliest French settlers in New France, fur traders that made their way along the Great Lakes and down the Mississippi from the Big Easy  to  La Métropole, stopping at Memphis, St Louis, and more along the way. What it must have been like, settling a new land, starting a new life. Now I know, know the land they walked, the waters they traversed, as my life nears its end.


Life is a journey
You’re fondest memories made
Down at the crossroads



8 thoughts on “Down At The Crossroads

  1. I love the haiku at the end… really good.

  2. Peripatetic Eric says:

    Great movement in the story, elicits a lot of feeling, and a good haiku.

  3. nightlake says:

    lovely haiku and story. Good going

  4. kz says:

    i really like the haiku! well said

  5. kingsleycw13 says:

    Reads like an old Delta Blues lyric – love it.

  6. Sunshine says:

    a journey back for this traveler discovering the ancestor’s trails from long ago. the haiku wraps it up nicely. ♥

  7. Oh that is a clever haibun, through the generations, coming back to where the forefathers were. Very well done.

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