Yokoburi – dVerse Haibun Monday

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I need windscreen wipers for my glasses and a windproof umbrella. My coat needs sleeves with elasticated cuffs to shield my wrists from the chill deluge. I need shoes that don’t let the water in, that are impervious to the puddles. I need to love the rain. I relax into the squall, lift my eyes to the skies, admire the lowering clouds, see them pregnant and heavy with fat, luscious raindrops, relax my shoulders and smile. My fellow commuters, marching head-down across London Bridge might think me mad if they took a moment to look up from their intense march towards the office, the coffee shop, the cafe, the next bus stop. But if they did take that moment to look around them, perhaps that might mean they were rejoicing in Nature in all her English summer unpredictability too?

Lifting my eyes

to the clouds over sky-line

I become raindrops.


 

This is my first attempt at dVerse Haibun Monday – and how apt! This evening the sky was cloudless as I left London, and it was beautifully warm. This morning – well, it felt like Autumn, with wind, intense rain and to top it all – yep, it was Monday. The haibun does indeed reflect what happened – I realised I was making myself tense and a little bit more than a little bit fed up with fighting the elements, so decided to go with the flow. And believe me, there was a great deal of water swirling in the air and on the pavements!

Thank you to Toni for hosting! I hope my offering is what she is looking for. I’m no expert at haibun, am a little ‘light’ on what a ‘proper’ haibun is like, but I think I’ve gone some way to achieving what has been asked for!

Yokoburi is Japanese for ‘driving rain’. Who knew there were so many words for different types of rain, as Toni kindly shares with us?

Why not join in, or if you don’t feel up to it, at least pop on over and read what others have offered up?

Eyes Right – Friday Fictioneers

Here is my latest entry into the weekly challenge brought to us by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Here are the rules: Use the photo as inspiration, write a hundred(ish) words – and share! Here goes my offering for this week – and I welcome your comments again!

I walk across London Bridge to work each morning, and some days, the bridge and all beyond is shrouded in fog or mist. It has crossed my mind that we are so trusting, to expect that the bridge, and everything on the other side, is indeed, still there….

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Copyright – Sandra Crook

– Eyes Right –

They follow one another like lambs.

Fog. It had descended in the night hours when Death beckons. I had been awake in my glass-encased penthouse, Scotch swirling in lead crystal. It had struck me as vaguely curious, but then I turned my back, returned to my dealings, turned on by money.

There were no footsteps on London Bridge – which my subconscious expected. I returned to the window. The fog rose. London Bridge was gone, and all that remained of those sheep was their detritus bobbing on the Thames below.

It pays to have your wits about you in the City.

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Click on the blue froggy below to read others’ offerings!