Rain


I hear you rolling through the ocean sky
hissing like the incoming tide
through the poplars
boughs dancing like kelp in the current
and I hear you pass over
roar dwindled to pattering of drops
pebbles rolling in the backwash.

Silence follows
trawling clouds in the blue
as the season shifts changes gear
slipping into the cooling time
and the dimming of the light.
We sigh
in eternal dissatisfaction.

World is water

 

World is water falling splashing

lashing with steel whips

(drips) bough and stalk

 

the clouds cold wrath

frothing in over-spilling streams

gleams darkly

 

battleship grey they throng

songs of thunder in their hearts

(starts the drum roll)

 

From over-spilling eyes

skies pour an ocean to float the blue-buoyed earth

and still

 

birds trill and sing

fling all their hearts in open-beaked song

as long as there is a pulse to thrill the blood.

Storm starts

For the dverse prompt.

storm4

it starts with wind

the hissing of leaves

tree-waves rolling

spume spitting and birds flung high

on jetsam wings buffeted

 

it starts

sharp stinging

sand or salt

while cloud boils up

black and bitter with thunderous rage

 

rain lashes

no mercy for tender shoots

the old and brittle

storm howls with no words

though we listen hard

 

close the shutters against the gale

mop up the creeping fingers of wild water

listen to things bend and break

the loose masonry clattering

down the chimney flue

 

afterwards

when calm washes back

we wonder what we did wrong

as the singing picks up

where it left off

valley

Gogyohka for a deluge

fire salamander

dim grey-green light

through water-grey blur

and the crooning of blackbirds

soothing the tedious drip

of broken guttering

 

by the pool of rainwater

murky brown with mud

a fire salamander gleams

exotic rainforest sprite

sharing the deluge with toads

 

awash the grass

the lane aflood

and hares race

oblivious to the downpour

the water veil of fading light

Head in the rain

 

Listening to the drip drip of rain on the migraine

and feeling the earth soak beneath boots, sinking

 

unstable and the air full of shimmering, I walk

beneath dripping trees, where birds watch for worms,

 

and the background noise shrinks to the song of

nightingales, tirelessly ignoring storm and downpour.

 

I walk a path between grasses shoulder high, bowed

by lead crystal drops, and the clamour soothes,

 

cooling the blood with rain drip dripping

from the pigeon-grey eaves of the sky.

Spring wind

Rain3

Wind winds through cracks and crannies, picking at

the insulation around the frames of window and door,

 

poking frigid fingers into spine and soup, chilling hot

food with a frozen flap of the hand. Wind whines in

 

the chimney, rattling doors to get in, riffling the pages

of an open book, rustling like dead leaves or flame-

 

crackle in the stove. Wind wins the battle with defences,

teasing the cracked plaster apart to whisper with thin lips,

 

This is the way of spring, the bright promises made, the

singing and the shooting, the sharp cut and thrust of birth.

Gogyohka: autumn rain

NFF3.jpg

I look for light where there is none,

taste the wind

for a salt memory of the sea

and touch the wild grasses

for the fleeting presence of a hare

 

wind blows

full of damp grey ribbons of cloud

streaks and shafts of steely grey

rain-wet and dew-wet

and a scattering of noisy finches

 

dusk seeps and creeps

beneath the cloud

between the rain drops

among the raggedy grass soldiers

still standing