Haiku 5.5

Rain without a good
Umbrella, mist looms — heavy
With our memories.

Haiku 5.3

Splattered asphalt

courses rivulets of rain,

umbrellas bob, weave.

Treetops puncture skies

that bleed threats of rain;

tail lights blaze anger.

Threatening rain thrusts
treetops into looming skies,
gridlocked tail lights flare

maple branches twist
fervently in the wind, rain
slaps against windows

Porch lights scar dark hills
veined by turbulent highways —
red leaf flails in rain

Splattering
over concrete, sidewalks
blossom abundant
umbrellas

Rain patta-pat-pats
on the maple — tabby hides
in sheltering leaves

Pressing my hands, stretched
out, to buttress sky, as it
seeps through my fingers.