Ciel de traîne

A spring weather poem for NaPoWriMo. There is more ciel de traîne here, in French with English adaptation. I wrote it/them when we were still packing up to move. Seems like light years away.

 

Ciel de traîne

drag-net sky

meshes up swallow shoals in grey mists

and goldfinch flocks dart

hysterical with mock fear

in and out of leaf shallows.

Above the rain-damp fields

chains of clouds process

wild wind-driven.

There are no rocks to break this tide

only gentle tree tops

leafing spring green.

Rain blows

grey swirls

giboulées

I wait

for the inevitable gold to fall

through wind rents

fountain through blow holes

and transform this meadow

into a river of diamonds.