Vancouver Island
It’s been too long since I’ve seen the sun
come out of the empty sky.
Only mist and fog and dreary days
from December to July.
The weeks and months go swimming by.
There’s nothing to mark a change.
What day is it?
What time is it?
Doesn’t matter cause it’s all the same.
The ducks and geese,
the grass and trees,
are waiting from hour to hour.
I hear them call for rain to fall.
They’re grateful for the shower.
Grey and black umbrellas
dot the street below.
Guess I should be happy.
At least it isn’t snow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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