a poem in my pocket

The Japanese, who invented haiku, are so “tuned in” to weather and seasonal changes that they actually have 50 different words for rain!  Yokoburi means “driving rain”, as Toni explains at dVerse Poets while serving up haibuns.

The northern sky looks dark but we clutch our tickets and lawn chairs, scanning the crowd for an open spot of grass. Undiminished by wringer of day’s work in humidity, we feel pumped for loud, driving beats of drums and bass guitar. A preliminary speaker takes the stage; her enthusiasm covers as a squall stall. Restless for concert to begin, we leave our chairs to search for supper among the vendor stands: pizza by the slice, walking tacos, churro bites, BBQ beef or bratz on bun, cookie on a stick, warm funnel cakes and cold lemonade. We chat with a mom and her stepsons at our picnic table; sharing napkins, talking about noisy boys. Then we wander back to our seats as band takes the stage, under threatening clouds. Let the music begin! Two songs in, clapping crowd is hushed by announcement to go to our cars as a storm is rolling in. A controlled chaos ensues as a thousand people simultaneously fold up camp and head for the parking lot. A strong gust of wind pushes us over tangled net fences to the relative shelter of our cars. A wild prairie storm steals show as headliner tonight.

outdoor concert rips

rain blows across tattered stage

hail drums staccato