Image by Christian_Crowd from Pixabay
*
Again. It’s raining again.
It’s rained more or less continuously
For half a year or more. Fond memories
Of the drought of 2022 laugh at us.
Every morning I wake to a pillowy
Grey sky, accompanied by the perpetual
Hiss of rain.
Even the birds are oppressed by it.
The seagulls have gone somewhere else.
France? The Small Brown Jobs are silent
Or singing somewhere less dank.
Everything squelches and although
The trees are trying to push out blossom
There are no insects to pollinate,
So no fruit later in the year.
Unlike the moronic politicians,
I’ve got the message on the climate;
I’m doing my best.
***
thanks! crie de coeur
I love this one!