Haiku for March 27th
Haiku for March 27th
Cold, rain, wind forecast
There is something called “the sun”
A warm memory
Listen to the Wind
Listen to the Wind What voices do you hear? Shoreline trees rustle a warning: “big storm brewing.” Branches sway, grate together, shriek, and moan as the limbs strain in the gusts. Cat’s paws form, but no meows, as the freshening wind ripples the surface of the lake. Seagulls cry to protest its chill, as geese honk and fly downwind. A weathered gate creaks and bangs, shouts “fix me” to the deserted old lakeside house. The eaves whistle an unnerving tune as if they’re about to fly away in the gale. A sailboat’s rigging wails: “no boating in this blow.” Waves crash ashore, taking out their fury on indifferent sands. The ancients, who have braced against it for millenia, whisper in their old tongue: “whew.”
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