water colour

The rains returned steadily, gently

Coaxing the ground to life. In the break

Of sun, I feel the soil pulsate with warmth

The underneath so parched the water runs

Dry. I work until my eyes adjust to darkness

Turning and raking the garden’s growing matter.

It’s dense, softening, malleable, but

Not soggy, not damp, not even very wet.

The forecast is for a week of rain.

In the dark there is a hint of fresh colour

From lavender and narcissus washed

Into flower. I contemplate galoshes,

A rainjacket, a river god named Cephissus

And the old world before the flood.

 

 

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2 thoughts on “water colour

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