The Cold Tap Sings

Here’s a wordplay I recently wrote on the train from Eastbourne to London. On this journey you snake through the South Downs and skate across a floodplain on the approach to Lewes, where this poem is set.

***

‘The Mirror’

The mirror the rain left
mirrored the sky.
It mirrored the clouds
when they sailed
through the sky.
It mirrored the sun
when it smiled
through the clouds.
It mirrored the bird
when it thirstily
kissed
the mirrored bird.
And when the clouds
grew bigger and blacker
it was no longer a mirror.
Instead it was a glut of rain.

***

I was looking at a puddle and then I saw the sky. It goes without saying that this was inspired by the abysmal weather we’ve been subject to in Britain this summer. Go here for another poem about rain. And, if things continue in the same vein, stay tuned for another.