TheBanyanTree: Rainy Morning

[John Bailey]

Tuesday April 1, 2003

RAINY MORNING


Today, it rained. When I woke at first light the wind was loud, searching 
about the house to find a way in and failing, so it contented itself with 
clattering the shutters over the ventilation outlets and with lashing the 
branches of the oak tree, seeking out weak points and severing dead, 
lichen-covered twigs, sending them sailing through the rain-filled air to 
produce a light scatter of tyre-crunch crispies over the drive.

         dawn wind
         crisp, crunch --
         twig fall

As the light strengthened the wind dropped away, not without some playful 
show of reluctance, and the morning settled down to a bleak and miserable 
kind of rain, persistent and insistent, like some miserable kill-joy at a 
party.  The morning exodus of working people dashed for their cars and 
drove away was done almost entirely without pause for small talk and so was 
over and done with before I had time to notice.

         door slam
         head down --
         running between raindrops

When I finished my morning writing stint I stood at the front window with 
Harry Cat, looking out at the estate of damp-brick dolls houses.

"This isn't very nice, Harry," I said.

Harry Cat stretched and walked along the window sill to rub against me, 
soft, warm and comfortable, and let out a great yawn.

"Yup. You're right, Harry. Let's go and have a snooze."

Which is what we did.

         rainy morning
         old grey poet, sleek old cat
         both snoring


--
John Bailey   Carmarthenshire, Wales
journal of a writing man
<http://www.oldgreypoet.com>