Much awaited rain clouds form above bringing shadowing the last of day. The wind suddenly became dead still like a child told to hush. The stillness of the hour allows allows my thoughts to linger with the the day’s conversation, a reflection of what once was. The rain at the end of this day is much like a cleansing.
I write poetry while waiting for rain. Prolifically.
Tonight, a new collection of poetry I will begin to write. Haiku, Senryu, and Tanka, short, lyrical poetry structured in 31 syllables arranged in groups of 5, 7, 5, 7 and 7, syllables. Three hundred poems I expect will take six months to write.