When it Rains
Monotonous patter
throws itself at window panes
endless threads of water
slashing vicious rain
spat out by the clouds
puncturing vast puddles
creating tiny orbits
of furiously popping bubbles
Reflexions of a boggy sky
in shiny brown veneer
nothing much but weather
landscape’s features disappear
The rhythm of the rain drops
a chant of tedious tears
the weight of pregnant clouds
oppressive, like some fears
Silence.
Now the rain has gone
laundered clean the skies
technicolour is returning
whitewashed still the mind
insects that went into hiding
venture out again
the earth heaves its chest and yawns
leaves uncoil from the rain
When it rains, it rains on me
it soaks me to the skin
a thimbleful will drench me
a teacupful will drown me
I’ll swim in every puddle
awake in milky skies
the haze of a rainbow
might then catch my eye
I will heave my cheat and yawn
and uncoil from the rain
Frances Livings © 2008
A fragment of this poem was used for a live recording of Alexander Hoetzinger’s Mondo Undo Orchestra at the 50th Beate Heymann’s Fashion Show in Berlin, Germany on July 4, 2017 (at min. 6:07)
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