It's Still Life

Woke to that loose sky, the sort where rain comes from, the lurch and coil of clouds caught on gusts, and the Acer (it’s shed its hyper green for a grown-up summer colour) stands unperturbed outside the window, a megalith, it’s a heelstone, and the rain falls like bouncing pennies, another month’s worth in a single day, and I remember when summer rain was warm-blooded, soft and gentle as a Sussex lilt, it was English, but this rain is castanets and steel toe boots, it’s a brute, and I saw on telly last night that Nevada is water-starved, drying up, and yet, here it rains, it rains, the longest rain of the year. A solstice rain.

Crows in the Acer
Gargoyles on a limb
Rain scrawls hieroglyphs

Written for dVerse Poets Solstice Haibun of 21 June/21 and Miz Quickly’s Four Specific Nouns, Photo by Cajeo Zhang on Unsplash (CC:00). Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter   ©Misky 2021