Strange rain takes me home
Leeds, V98 - in the silent morning field
I hear the strange rain pelt
my canvas, this lulls me back
to sleeping-bag half-sleep.
Keele, Summer 1998,
I can smell the petrocore
of strange rain and hot campus concrete
as I doze on the last afternoon
the drinking and studying
of an OU Summer school week
leave little time for sleeping.
Paphos, Cyrpus, Late September 2000
Among the dance-deep town
we are glad to find a rock bar
and they bring us a free liqueur every two beers,
we leave late and I am relieved
at the strange rain drops heavily on mosquito bites.
Wanaka, NZ, November 2004,
I taste the strange rain, happily.
Yesterday, I was in an empty dorm,
when the world moved.
I lay on the ground and watched
as locals continued their lives
as the road and trees shook with a quake.
Honeymoon, Weymouth, September 2007
after Match of the Day and a carvery
at the local, we return to our room,
watch the stunning Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
on a B+B TV not made for viewing films of such majesty.
We wake in the night to watch the wind and strange rain
obscure our sea-view with impressive force.
Sarah L Dixon Day 9 NaPoWriMo