I like rain,
I tell myself.

I would rather
bundle up against the cold

than face
the slick sheen of sweat and sunscreen
that feels heavy on my face
and distorts my vision,
– an inevitable consequence of summer.

And all of this is true.

But, as the heat rolls in, with its pungent floral scent,
shimmering in the air before me,
I realise that there is something I’ve forgotten.

I have forgotten the feel of sunlight on my bare skin.
How it penetrates into my very bones,
making them pliable.

Making
me
pliable.

I have forgotten how the city sounds of cars, arguments, and stereos blaring,
fade into the background and become one
with birds and crickets and a gentle summer breeze.

I have forgotten bare feet,
and cool drinks,
and bright pops of colour.

But most importantly, I have forgotten the unravelling of time.

Day turns into
day
turns into morning

I stare out across the rocky shore
at the waves breaking
forever
or for five minutes

Not sure if I’m eight or eighty or somewhere in between

Mother, maiden, crone – I inhabit them
or they inhabit me

I stretch and yawn,
becoming soft and expansive

I dip my toes in the summer morning and wade into eternity

I am recently also to be found on YouTube – please forgive me for being kind of shit at it. I think reading poetry out loud adds an extra dimension, so I’m trying to do videos for new poems going forward, and perhaps I’ll even go in and add them to older ones. We’ll see how I get along. Anyhoo, here is the video for this poem: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V9W8xAYhweY