it has rained and rained on the hills upstream
the river flows deep, the colour of builder’s tea
beyond the last fields the sea waits
rain batters roof tiles
the red shutters may not hold
my heart is not storm ready
sheltering from rain
magnolia petals fall
a gentle pelting
A single petal falls inside my collar, cool against warm skin. The raindrop it held trickles slowly down, a single tear goodbye.
raindrops softly cease
clouds are clearing in the breeze
my mind stills to dream
inspired by some words my friend @TangledFox used
Smoke-like curtains of rain sweep across the Forth, stopping short of the sand. People frown across at Fife, exchange worried glances. Buggies are turned away from the wind. Men in kilts have their Marilyn moments. Chips catch sand. Ice cream drips onto woollen gloves. And then the rain arrives.
Rain falls on rivers
Fine stippling below the trees
Fish rise, do not bite
chipped concrete flowers
hard rain on dust, mud runs thick
living the project
last day of the month
snow may come again and rain
last day of winter
enough light shines through
diamond points of frozen rain
gutters stream half-full
It rained and then the sun
came out. There should have been
a rainbow but
there was not one to be seen.
The petrol on the puddle in the road
would have to do.
Kilcol scooped up the water
and held it in his cupped palm.
His hand shook lightly,
raising gentle waves that flashed
the blue-brown rainbow sheen.
The sun disappeared. Kilcol, bored,
dropped the water and wiped his hand.
The rainbow smeared across the pavement
for a while. Nobody noticed it.
More rain came. No sun.
He stood in the rain holding a tray with six glasses, singing “Happy birthday to me” as the glasses slowly filled.