A Guide to Rain
Somewhere it’s always raining – a thin, persistent
rain dripping off leaves, running down tree trunks,
making a gentle but weary sound like someone
rustling plastic carrier bags. Even when the sun
flares the side of a building, picking up on the
quality of grouting or the fixings of a gutter, when
the first crocus pokes the first spring day and
down by the brook, just as years ago, a patch of
snowdrops nods to the water’s glint and wriggle,
somewhere in a small room beyond a dark
passage, it’s always raining.
