This ground was thirsty
by god thirsty
been cracking and cursing for months
with only the vaguest hunch of a possible deluge

so these rains were drunk in abandonment
and the angry soil has yielded
soft underfoot, a sole cwtch
to be savoured, felt

the stream, so feeble last week
has remembered its fatness,
wetness, strength
recalling a bearing
thoughts are borne once again
with vigour to the constant sea

I beg of you,
do not go when
the comfortless sky
sinks into its rainy sadness

Winter is yet to come,
and I wish to be near you

the rain trickles against
my window like a crackling fire

and i remember what my father told me,
raindrops fall faster than ashes

And we sit on the porch steps
our bare feet rest on cold cement  
the space between memories and contentment
starts to occupy your lungs
we watch the distant rain, still too premature
yet you, in fear of the future
run inside.

crunchy leaves swimming
rain dances in the meadows
drowning the sun rays

Clay baked, brown, red and white
In white hot heat
Points to sky, raincloud free
And sinking off into the hills
It goes on and high.
Weak legs on strong lines
Chalked toes and dry mouths,
Breaking their belief
Shattering the smitherins into the atmosphere
In hope the gods will weep.

The night moon catches in the spin of my umbrella,
Running light down the ribs,
Dripping off its fingertips and
Vanishing into the slick concrete,
Shimmering with reds and greens
Of passerby and walk-signs
Blurred bags and t-shirts that push past
the pair of shoes frozen on the edge of the curb
The spot there beside me
The reason my hands burn white in grip
Since when?
Did my shoulder no longer feel the drip of rain
Since when?
Had the puddles' glint ceased to hold your face
Since when?
Was there, beside me,
A space