The rain began
to fall behind me
as I crossed
the border
I expected it
to chase after me
and talk excitedly
to me in raindrops
about this & that
that & this
- but, it didn't.
It fell in one country
and not the other.
It was as if the rain
had mislaid its passport
or hadn't received
a visa to rain here.
I cycled off
into the Ardennes
looking back
at the Dutch rain
falling frustratedly
unable to understand
the sun
talking in Belgian.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I've never been able to afford to travel, but you have taken me to a new place within your poem. There is something about rain and sunshine together.....the rainbow is in your writing. Ruthie....do come and read some of mine...