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.
Rage, storm: rescue me from bland and careful living. Teach me your wild ways. ____________________
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