poetry

Rain Yesterday, Rain Tomorrow
K. V. Skene

1. hovers over your bent umbrella awash at spring’s edge bruises the bluebells under the oak as kerbside crocus face-off puddled violets drip through the cracks

2. still waterlogged at midsummer rain and gum-booted children squelch littered lawns and beer cans and plastic bags and styrofoam packs and broken bottles take over a landscape of accidents

3. under a sky swollen as yesterday’s sweet gum and whitebeam and maple and ash drizzle autumnal gold rain and ripe apples splash into your hands against which you have no defence

4. now the lamp’s on and the winter drapes drawn across rain-lashed glass conceals grey trees grey fences while cars hiss wetly down the road to wherever you’re going as you knew you would

Twice winner of the Shaunt Basmajian Chapbook Award, K.V. Skene’s publications include Edith (Flarestack Publishing, UK, 2004), Love in the (Irrational) Imperfect (Hidden Brook Press 2006) and You Can Almost Hear Their Voices, due 2010 (Indigo Dreams Press, UK). Born Canadian, K.V. currently writes from Oxford U.K.