Rain Yesterday, Rain Tomorrow

hovers over your bent umbrella
awash at spring’s edge
bruises the bluebells under the oak
as kerbside crocus face-off
puddled violets
drip through the cracks

still waterlogged at midsummer
rain and gum-booted children
squelch littered lawns
and beer cans and plastic bags and styrofoam packs
and broken bottles
take over a landscape of accidents

under a sky swollen as yesterday’s
sweet gum and whitebeam and maple and ash
drizzle autumnal gold
rain and ripe apples splash
into your hands
against which you have no defence

now the lamp’s on and the winter drapes
drawn across rain-lashed glass
conceals grey trees grey fences
while cars hiss wetly down the road to wherever
you’re going
as you knew you would

Twice winner of the Shaunt Basmajian Chapbook Award, K.V. Skene’s publications include Edith (Flarestack Publishing, UK, 2004), Love in the (Irrational) Imperfect (Hidden Brook Press 2006) and You Can Almost Hear Their Voices, due 2010 (Indigo Dreams Press, UK). Born Canadian, K.V. currently writes from Oxford U.K.