Weather Report Poem by Res John Burman

'There be' Squalls
Here in Penzance
Chasing each other
Across roof-tops
Of houses and cars.

Dashing themselves
Into vapour
On all surfaces.
Death-sliding down
Roofs ~ over edges
Launders and gutters
Down-pipes overflowing.

Making raging rivers
In miniature
Down the steep streets
Leading to the sea.
Causing little dams
Of rubbish to form
Behind the wheels
Of Parked cars.

Last nights take away
Making a dash
For freedom
To evade
The hungry gulls.

School girls squeal
As each cold gust
Hits them
Too fashion conscious
To wear a coat
Or carry a 'brolly.

Visibility closes down
As each squall hits,
Opens again as sight
Follows the squall
Into the distance.

And between each squall
Sunny spells shining
On the washed clean
Streets.

The street cleaners
Will be happy
All the rubbish
Is at the bottom
Of the hill!

(18 Jan 2008)