Rainy December Day

It’s
as
if a
chasse d’eau were
continually 
being pulled today, and all grey.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2021)

Note
So I’ve come back to a form (fibonacci) I used to practice a lot for a while and then didn’t for a long time. Nothing but the truth in this one – the waters of the sky are coming down on Rome in varying degrees of mercilessness, and it’s so dark you can hardly call it day.

The umbrella flight haiku

 

Rain, umbrella and
wind conspire to lift me up
like Flying Robert.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2021)

Note
Pretty much that kind of weather here in Rome this morning of October 11, 2021. Inspired by a poem in Der Struwwelpeter (1876) by Heinrich Hoffmann, a book of more or less moral tales everyone in Germany knows. The illustration is by the author (Hoffmann) himself.

A multilingual rain haiku

Rain. Regen. बारिश.

Pioggia. All day long il

pleut. ¡Para, lluvia!

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2021)

Note
Let’s hope this multilingual admonishment will help to put an end to the endless rain.

Today’s weather haiku

Rain. Rain. Rain. Rain. Rain.
A little lull. Rain. Drops. Rain.
Puddle. Rain. Rain. Rain.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2021)

Note
That is the poetic razor-edge-of-time report on the weather in Rome on this 3rd day of 2021.

The dark day haiku

Carry a flashlight
to walk the streets of Rome – it
is that dark today.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note
The truth and nothing but. The seemingly endless scorchers of summer 2020 have come to a dark and wet end for the time being.

The in the office haiku

In my back a sound – 
if short, it’s the rolling of
a tire, if long: rain

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note
It turned out to be short. Since there was no engine noise, it must have been an electric car or a hybrid in electric mode. Can such dissimilar sources cause similar sounds? But both alternatives presented themselves to me without conscious reflection as I was sitting in my office with my back to the window, not bothering to turn around to verify.

The Ice Saints Haiku

Coldest mid May in
decades, thunder rolling,
endless, endless rain

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
All true, nothing to add. Who are the Ice Saints?

It is that sound haiku

With my back to the 

window I sense – I know – that
it’s raining again.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2018)

Note
There is no other sound quite like rain coming down. Mick Jagger and Keith Richards knew it:

All I hear is the sound
Of rain falling on the ground
As Tears Go By (The Rolling Stones) 

The rain in Rome haiku

The Italian
nation wilts in rain, stays home
or visits temples*.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

*These, of course, are no longer the temples of Jupiter or Jehova, but their modern equivalent: the shopping centers or temples of consumerism, which offer free shelter from the wet element.

Author's note
As if I could ever leave a haiku without a note!
Once again, what this one says is (mostly) the truth and razor edge of time reporting because it is raining in Rome.
Also, I must apologize for using the present of wilted.

Written for Haiku Heights and wilted.

Shorty snuck in

He did, before I had to leave for work.

This be said, though, in all haste:

• The weather angels put on shiny garb today. Hooray!
• For those who don't care about weather: try a whole season with rain.
• Heard about such a season today, which lasted from October till March 2005, from one who had to endure it close to the coast of Croatia.
• Everything wet, no electricity because solar power can only last so long with rain.
• Cooped up in a room.
• Night falls at 5:30 p.m.
• Lots of opportunity for involuntary candlelight dinners.

This is how one turns chance conversations into blogs, which then become ... what? Evanescent? Pubescent? Nascent?

Nothing to say no. 3

There might be more to say than nothing (be warned). It has been said about me that I hardly ever run out of words, and that, if I do, that's a very bad sign.

Today's list of events (non-exhaustive):

• The rain gods meant well and opened their buckets.
  
• The chill gods meant equally well.
• Today's light was mostly grey. No, gray. One vowel grayer than grey.
  
• Some primroses for sale at the grocery store brightened things.

• I treated myself to some super expensive chocolate, the wrapper of which was more expensive than the taste.
• I got work done slightly after the deadline, and then felt it was too late to get started on more work.
• Failed miserably again in the fields of morning yoga & fibonacci.
  
• What am I going do about that fall vacation with scooters that Blogger keeps suggesting for tabs?

Today was good,
today was fun,
tomorrow there will be
another one.

– Dr. Leon Seuss