CABIN FEVER
Two weeks of rain. The smell of dampness in our clothes, in the linen closet, in the upholstery. A monotonous beat to the rain. Dull plops on the roof and higher pitched bleeps on the metal drain pipes and gutters. Trees bent over with the added moisture. One branch of the maple, cracked and hanging by its sap. Garden flowers dragging in the mud. The sour odor of wet and rotting vegetation permeates the air.
nowhere to go–
the damp rooms echo
my restlessness
Contemporary Haibun On-line, October 2007
HEAT WAVE
Murky sky, dead air, pizza oven temperature. Perspiration collects on my skin, pooling in crevices. The day stops even before it begins.
curtains stir–
a small breeze lost
at the window
Bottle Rockets, August, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Haibun
TAKING STOCK Something left unsaid or incorrectly said. Some decision made or not made. A false start or no start. A wrong step. A mista...
2 comments:
This causes me to use all of my senses...wonderful imagery! :)
love the cabin fever poem, perhaps more so because I'm currently living it
Post a Comment