The downpour will retire soon
and I will be able to cross
  the rivers again
and gallop along
  the muddy sheets of grass, where
did I leave the picnic blanket ? (is this even
  the same land ?)

the owls seem different;
less intuitive
and  more mechanical.

And the elderly man (who raked in  
the hay)
has been sacked, I
hope his daughters
  will cope .


The hills are more frigid,  they
all end with jagged points
and the badger nests
have been raided .

Where did
it all go?  the mirth
before the  rainfall.