Today’s weather haiku

Rain. Rain. Rain. Rain. Rain.
A little lull. Rain. Drops. Rain.
Puddle. Rain. Rain. Rain.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2021)

Note
That is the poetic razor-edge-of-time report on the weather in Rome on this 3rd day of 2021.

Poltava to Lviv, January 17, 1942

Field marshal, felled by
stroke while jogging at minus 
forty. Passed on plane.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note
Refers to German field marshal Walter von Reichenau, responsible for the massacre at Babi Yar in 1941. Reichenau was an enthusiastic supporter of sports and went on cross-country runs regularly. Having died in 1942, Reichenau was never convicted of war crimes but most certainly would have had he survived WWII. This haiku was indirectly inspired by reading about Yevgeny Yevtushenko’s poem Babiyy Yar (1961), which is about the massacre. 

The freezing December night haiku

It’s just me and the
moon now, a noncommittal
cold stare from above.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
Once in a while it hits us all – the urge to involve the moon in poetry. This is the outcome of my latest moon wax attack. Thank God it’s from above. From below would definitely be spooky. Should have worn mittens and a warm hat on that imaginary December night walk.

A winter variation

Run the water for
a minute, step in, avoid
touching the cold walls.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
The truth and nothing but about taking a shower in winter.

The December in Rome haiku

Can’t believe I called
for air conditioning in June
now that I shiver.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2017)

Note
The truth and nothing but. Do you ever feel that there’s no possibility of too much heat when there’s (definitely!) too much cold? ... And Rome’s nothing compared to Moscow or Irkutsk!