Poem: “Of Trudging Through Rain in Wintry Summer”

These are the truest blues
That I have ever felt

It happened in summer
Not quite summer
The rain still fell, albeit half-heartedly
From a decaying grey sky
That never quite died

Only receding, as an adolescent whim
Hastily, hesitantly, unsure
Pitter patter pitter patter

To reveal grand blue
And illuminating yellow
And free white

I learned it that summer:
Grand and illuminating and free were not
As permanent residents. They come and go
Vagrants that ought to have stayed

When I needed them more than anything
Pitter patter pitter patter

And I am alone again
And suddenly the walls crumble and fade
And suddenly I am without home nor heart

I am the vagrant
I have always been the vagrant
The light rain batters my bare skin
And no sky’s blue
Could ever be as true
As that which my eyes and soul and body now wear

Pitter patter pitter patter
It erodes me


Written for the first days of Melbourne’s summer of 2013, in which it rained like July. We had not seen spring that year.

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