Thursday's Thunder
In The Afternoon:
The loosest cotton still traps heat. Every breeze is embraced. People are
walking in food halls to linger in freezer aisles, they are loitering at every
air-conditioned doorway, they are sitting on shaded benches, postured like
slightly deflated balloons. There's no explanation for the girl in a woollen
hat. Girl and hat cause ripples of surprise. Only ripples: it is too hot for
waves. Plymouth's streets hover heat.
In The Evening:
All the city errands are done. The air is thick, a clear fog, even in the wood
shade, even at the river's edge. Coolness lies in the murk of water, calm as a
carp. Beyond the upside down trees, clouds reflect.
Later, wet clothes are dumped in a washing machine; from the doorstep of an
untidy house, a thunderstorm is observed.
Comments
We have the opposite weather just now; a polar vortex again, and what are typically some of the hottest days of summer are now reminiscent of September.
I do believe you've improved the haiku by eliminating 7 internal syllables. Nobody else has successfully done that. My compliments and admiration!
Geo, I am relieved the haiku has survived the removal of its internal syllables. In truth of course I did not do any counting at all but then genius always has that touch of fluke :-) xx *am laughing at self in case there is any confusion*
Stephanie, storms make a great impression on childhood- we take note of things in a different way when its fresh to us I think.
THANK YOU everyone for reading and commenting- I am rather the hermit even online these days but all the better to throw a bigger story at you my dears!