And the wind whips the unsteady fingers
of rain
like the swirls and whirls
of ice-cream in cones -
melting on my unsteady fingers,
on a sun-stricken holiday
belonging to a place
in which I don't belong -
until the rain and I meet
in recognition
and open fingers
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 4:37 PM UTC
And the wind whips the unsteady fingers
of rain
like the swirls and whirls
of ice-cream in cones -
melting on my unsteady fingers,
on a sun-stricken holiday
belonging to a place
in which I don't belong -
until the rain and I meet
in recognition
and open fingers
September 30th is Independence Day in Botswana.
It's an arid place so people were thrilled that we were blessed with rain today.
