NaPoWriMo2018 Day 12

http://www.napowrimo.net/ "Today, we’d like to challenge you specifically to write a haibun that takes in the natural landscape of the place you live. It may be the high sierra, dusty plains, lush rainforest, or a suburbia of tiny, identical houses – but wherever you live, here’s your chance to bring it to life through the charming mix-and-match methodology of haibun."

A what?  Oooo! A new-to-me poetry form.  <<Reads article>>

Okay,  <<re-reads article>>  Um.  <<reads article again>>

Ah.  <<scribbles a few thoughts.  Tears them up.  Tries again. Tears them up to.  Muse stomps off to sulk in the corner, Inspiration sits down and cries,  Pen finds itself suddenly flying through a different room with cat in hot pursuit.>>

Okay, I really need another year or two to get my head round this but here goes:

Effort 1:

The pathways are depression grey and the houses loom in stern rows, curtained windows veiled with disapproval of the scene. Frozen Winter has defeated the tenuous strands that struggled to relieve the monochrome vista. Frost has added extra wear and bleached black to grey. But now, as the long, grieving darkness is ending, the heavens open. Up above, the rain and sunlight mix like tears and laughter. Shattered light paints memories of colours arcing in the sky, reflecting in puddles below. 

April showers fall
on damp concrete’s darkened sheets
oily rainbows bloom.

Effort 2:

Dormancy, that once feigned death, wakes. Matted grass holds shades of green within its taupe tangles. Seeking to impress, birds steal strands to construct recycled dwellings amid the blossoms of the cherry tree, whose petals fall in mocking imitation of the banished winter snow. Sharp spears thrust up beneath the late waking bushes, seeking to bloom before the competition for space in the light begins. Torpid life revives in the sun’s warming regard and from the side bare hedgerows have a verdant sheen. The season reborn or re-imagined? 

Gardens flush with green
the skeletons of winter
reanimated.

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Effort 3:

Inseparable parted, held that way by time and earth. In my monochrome world you lie shrouded in white while I stand grieving in black. The rain and my tears still fall unchecked, yet sunlight now calls forth the verdant spears as new life covers old death. 

Past the new green grave
In the corner of my eye
rainbows form and die.