Mackerel sky obscures the moon;
rain scent flirts along the edges
of the wind that tosses leaves
like noisy unbound hair;
night simmers with the promise
of a storm to rock us all
from sleep to wakefulness,
calypso beat of raindrops
on the hissing heat of tile,
holding all the remnants
of the day deep in its stony heart
so warm to unshod feet.
Stars flash their shine
against the sodden mass
of clouds all pumped
with their opinion
ready to spout forth
the rain that earth
will welcome home
and hold until
the sun sucks it away
to dry the ground
and damp the sky
and make a drapery
of misty mackeral cloud
to bind about the moon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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