A fear deeper than the coming of a blizzard. Immobility. Loss of power – electricity. Trees would come down. Lines would be down.
The rain that freezes on contact.
Behind our house hung the muddle. Electric power lines and telephone lines for several different houses all brought together on one pole. Itself an amazement of “engineering.” Four fully-grown trees bunched together, crocheted into the tangle. Huge limbs intertwined with life-giving wires.
A sub-freezing drenching.
A crack. A pop. Darkness. Thank God for cell phones.
Men, hard-weathered by years of this kind of work. Eyes that had seen everything. Each one, in essence, muttering something like, “What the hell…?”
Nature assaults here
too hard to run on glare ice
move south – ice in drinks
dVerse – Poets Pub Haibun Monday: 50 Shades of Rain
Okay, so I’m a day late….
The challenge is to write a hiabun on one of the fifty Japanese names for rain.
It sparked something this morning, so I followed the muse.