Earlier this week, I was in Williamsburg. I went to college there, and for those four years it seemed to rain a lot (the city is built on a swamp, so my perception was probably correct). Somehow, I brought that weather home to Minneapolis, and now it is raining here.
Rain evokes moods and defines moments. Let's haiku about that this week. Here, I will go first:
By Millington Hall
The grass is still wet. I stand
Just to soak my shoes.
Now it is your turn! Just use the 5/7/5 syllable plan, and have some fun!
It rained mud this week.
ReplyDeleteHigh winds brought west Texas dirt.
Short rain brought it down.
Left on cars and roofs
A thin layer of west Texas
in Central Texas.
Rain was way too short
to wach clean the surfaces
boon to car washes!
rain meant I couldn't
ReplyDeletego out and some days it meant
I did not have to
Rain interrupts us.
ReplyDeleteSlows us down and causes pause.
Plays with perception.
Rain! Bring it on!
ReplyDeleteWash that pollen down the drain
itch and sneeze no more.
I feared torrents
ReplyDeleteThundering on the rooftop
Would it all crash down?
I have no haiku, but a poem, written by someone else: the mother of federal judge Joan Lefkow, Doris Humphrey, who was murdered at the age of 89 by a disgruntled litigant seeking to strike back at Lefkow. After her mother's death, Lefkow discovered poems, written by her mother, in drawers, published in obscure magazines. She collected her mother's poems and published them in a slim volume, "I Speak of Simple Things." They are stunning, jewels.
ReplyDeleteMy favorite of all is about the rain. It is titled "Summer Storm":
They looked out on the field of corn
Where, just this morning, Hope stood, dark green
And shoulder high. They saw it through a blur
Of steam and mist as wind and rain and hail
Combined to wreak a senseless fury
On the green and innocent promise
Of the fields.
Silently they watched. The roar of the storm so loud
To drown out the sound of speaking.
Silently, they waited for the storm to pass.
Gradually the roar became a murmur, then a drip
Of an occasional raindrop on the roof.
And then, as though nothing at all had happened
The sun broke through and cast a shining rainbow
On the dark and hurrying cloud.
The man pulled on his boots, she made no move to go;
This was his time to be alone. She watched him
As he slowly slogged his way through all that muddy waste
Where, just this morning, Hope stood, shoulder high.
Returning to the house (which held his riches, after all)
He grinned a little wryly as he said, "The Lord giveth,
And the Lord taketh away." She smiled and touched his hand.
"And blessed is His name," she answered.
Correction: Donna Humphrey
ReplyDeleteRainy day, hot tea,
ReplyDeletesit all day on the back porch,
write, write, write, write, write.
The rain in Spain falls
ReplyDeleteOn my head, is cold and wet,
Churros, chocolate.
Doris Humphrey or
ReplyDeleteDonna Humphrey... whatever
blessed be her name