Saturday Rain
I gaze out the window this morning
the woods and parks have various signs.
Instead of light from a scowling summer sun
gloomy dark clouds hover. ©
Rain drifts all about like music,
a steady translucent waterfall
as if acrobats on wires and strings
hang from a ceiling of sky. ©
At least the water tank is full.
One turn of the tap and there’s an
immense flow, a white river
looking for a bucket lip. ©
Inside walls, it’s warmer, happier,
thunder and lightning altering the mood
yet there’s a throng of magpies at the front door
spruiking, warbling, feathers damp.
Read more of this poem, HERE