2110: No Shelter

  • by
  • 1 min read

We are caught in a shower
but find fast shelter under
a vast elm tree – it’s one of
those fierce deluges – then
it resets to auld stock rods
[less hefty fall of rain] – We
suck up childhood scents –
a summer-heated sweat of
uncut grasses & dampness
below – Then it peters-out –
& halts [& just a redolence
remains among us to stain
noted memories] – We rise –
our eyes to massed clouds
& continue to vacant fields
bowed by those stair rods –
& boots [less waterproofed
by mean choices] absorb it
all – we walk on fallen rain

Leave a Reply Cancel reply