Here we are again
in the deep of days dying
the sky in tiers of greys
charcoal shades creep in and change the mood
as rain proceeds its rhythmic fall on house and park
and knocks at doors and patters on all cars

wet the way
its weathered edges gurgle like a stream
sun heated surfaces begin to steam
all moisture celebrates existence in the hour
while most they run for shelter
I stand in my free shower

Margaret Ann Waddicor 25th April 2016