Deluge

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

Published by Muli

I am the Coordinator of the MFA Creative Writing in UWI, St Augustine. My research interests are women's voices, memory and migration. I'm also interested in how we, as a university, engage with the wider community to help changes at grassroots level.

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