While my background brain sorts out the best order for the chapters of my novel-in-progress, I am returning to haiku. What better place than the lake during a late-summer storm, to roll words around the elements.
Water, breath, air. Horse wet from the rain...
Birds, frogs, grasses: Sudden riot of song -- Rain during drought. ~~~
Rain It came back to me today, as it has over the years: the story of the girl who did not see the sun. For me, it's been the opposite. All we've had for two months has been sun. No rain. Not one drop. We're heading into drought conditions. As the creeks dry up and … Continue reading Rain planet
The worms throw themselves across rain's asphalt altar and awake when the ecstasy ends to find their god has gone and sacrificed them to the sun. __________________________
After summer rain raspberries eased from the cane shimmer in my bowl. __________
Storm clouds carry faces so real I swear they speak: be wary do not squander fine days remember happiness You do not know the weather's humours. Their mouths twist to laughter, then they are dogs, curling away after their own tails until howling and roiling, back they come, forcing me to shelter in a crashing … Continue reading Shield your joyous ones
Morning rains end, green cups liquid gems, geese lift off, dawn sighs and stretches.
Sitting on the sofa, staring at the perfect flames; the two cats, having argued over who gets the lap and who the haunch, now settled in their places; I'm thinking about a perfect life, which is what this looks like. Rain drums on the roof and falls in waves from that one place where the … Continue reading A poem written under the influence of Billy Collins*