
It isn’t sudden
that burst of rain
that stills the sounds
of the mountains’ birds
No, if you observe
carefully, it creeps
into the valley in
stages
A roll of a cloud over the
hill, slowly nudging out
the blue and its bright
sunshine yellow, greying
It’s in the leaf waves on
certain trees, the ones
that dance to no discernible
breeze, (silent wind tunes)
Then the first splodges fall,
not on you, but in the
distance, so you don’t notice
until it has become a deluge
and you think it is sudden.
Look up. You will always see it
coming. Look up.
And as it leaves, you
feel the lightening of the
sky, grey turns off
but coconut palms still
drip, drip, drip
so it’s a while before you
notice it has passed