For Frank Tassone’s haikai challenge. a stormy sequence.

half the day is dark

for some the half-light too

when things are unclear

and mysteries slip

between light and shadow

shadow

the reverse of light swells

when birds settle with folded wings

and prowls the rustling grasses

on determined feet

feet pad silently

except for crackling of leaves in August drought

amid the gentle sighing of boughs

in the cooling air

cradling pigeons

pigeons fall silent

when dusk fades

from dying gold to feather-grey

hush among the leaves

still heavy with heat

heat rises

swells in waves of cloud

crackling with lightning

sparks of faulty connections

illuminating the underbelly of the storm