Sun and storm

A shadorma trio for Colleen’s weekly challenge.

 

When sun sears,

and each step drags through

molten bronze,

my ears pulse

with cicada-throb—phantom

hiss of cool fountains.

 

Peeling back

the light from shadows,

the heat from

cool tree shade,

the weight of summer becomes

a golden caress,

 

until the storm

unleashes torrents

from torn cloud,

water-burst

of electric-wired rain

to sooth the fever.

Windy trees

A couple of shadormas. The wind has been blowing for three days now from the south. Not a gale, but persistent and warm.

 

In the dark

the wind is king that

bends the boughs

shakes the leaves

its wordless voice louder than

fox’s stealthy tread.

 

Windy sky

sickle moon hangs low

where owls drift

and we walk

our ears full of leaf-rustle

and the wind’s dark song.

Spring trio

The dverse prompt is the shadorma. It’s good to revisit this form.

 

Fandango

of dry leaves flying,

this spring wind

washes clean

the cold winter trash­—blue sky

vibrates with birdsong.

 

Nights of moon

or clouded, no stars,

puckered with

owl voices

draw me out to stand beneath

the great emptiness.

 

Water runs

always this season,

chirruping,

light-splashed.

Moon, stars, spring wind blowing, dance

sap-green flamencos.