Condensation moves
My view of the world
Distant trees stand
Distorted by condensation
Wild wind whistling
Rain lashes the outside
Near and far from me
Whistling outside prison
Ceiling light reflection
Raindrops dance in my light
Outside night creeps slowly
My view reflects only me
Condensation sets in
Rain running down, down
Outside is a dreamland
Rain, wind and whispers
My warm prison is artificial
My view clear in my reflection
the sky holds the bad-tempered sun
in one of those moods,
the dry land is burning
humans walk along in a forced daze
animals take shelter
birds steal old chips
the firey winds blow through the cities
new hairdos flee freely
cracked lips are now “in”
winter white skin turns bright lobster pink
different pigments burn
natural tanners strip off
burning hell is the new spring so it seems
bushfires strip old towns
heartache echoes loss
from out of nowhere he moves so freely
sunnies for Mr Cool
Donning linen luxury
moving in a slow saunter to defy the sun
the sky looks down
wishing for the rain
the clouds see their chance to multiply
little wisps of white
now fat sooty beasts
the sun cracks it, but the storm will arrive
retreating in a huff,
as the clouds explode
Rain falls from sootie clouds,
to kiss the desolation we made.
They saw the rain contemptuously,
then they cried when it fell no more.
The clouds call the rain to fall again,
but only for the love of the land.
Photo – Ganesh Shankar
grey moves in to darken the sky
the atmosphere changes inside
rain moves on the house windows
meandering water stops my mind
fresh rain smells calm a hot heart
rain dots the wooden window sills
standing and forgetting the sorrow
grasping the raindrops falling soft
rain droplets
wet your skin
cooling water
wish for more
grey moves in to darken the sky
the atmosphere changes inside
rain moves on the house windows
meandering water stops my mind
fresh rain smells calm a hot heart
rain dots the wooden window sills
standing and forgetting
grasping the rain drops
