Thor tosses Mjolnir
crushing thunder rings our ears
soft rain billows downPaintbrush and lupens
bask in sunlight, drink their fill
winter obliviousStorm clouds intimidate
mortals optimistic plans
gods make no amendsVirga drapes her locks
wispy tendrils dangle low
impotent showersCumulus portends
precipitation in waves
west winds blow them clearThirsty grounds beckon
gravid clouds to spill their loads
sorry, not your turn
The first one and the last made the biggest impression on me. In the first, I liked the contrast between the might of thunder and the softness of the rain. The last one was just so poetic with not your turn.
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Thanks, Goldie.
These are always a hit n’ miss. Some work, most don’t. As it should be.
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These are good; capture the essence!
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Rather a romantic haiku, sentimental in a catastrophic sort of way. As a kid, I never thought much about the weather. It was either cold or hot. Things have changed and we are living at the beginning of a inexorable trend. Woe to us lying beneath the cherry blossoms, expecting rain, but suddenly getting snow. Duke
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Grew up in the East Coast, weather was this thing that parents dealt with. Hurricane Agnes 1972 tore through Northern Virginia and that’s about the only weather I recall from my youth.
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