Angela with silver-lined umbrella. Photo by Trevor Sharot, edited and cropped by Angela.
The blue sky said no umbrella
I strolled off in strong sunshine
All day long it's bright, no change
Except the gradual drip of time
The day's blue sky a fading dream
When I reached the edge of town
The path looked like a river
The rain was pouring, pounding down
Then when I left the station
I faced a dreadful shock
The clouds had emptied bucketloads
To drench each road and rock and block
The morning's sunshine haunts me
A dream I can't forget.
My sandals slosh through water
I hop from dry through swirling wet
The water's wet and dirty black
The only way's uphill and on
There's no point turning back
Just think, next year, this will be gone
What blessings come from water?
This monsoon could go on for days
It must make the flowers and trees grow
I hope the mist dispels the haze
My clothes cling wet, my hair hangs wet
I look like a half-drowned rat
I'm half way home, but not there yet
Rain cares not if you're thin or fat
I should have left home earlier
I should have packed spare socks
I should have done a hundred things
Not biked uphill past riverside rocks
My umbrella is far too small
The cloud is far too big
I should have worn a sombrero
Wellingtons and a wig
A journey of ten minutes
An obstacle race, takes half an hour
Strangers make friends, we share this war
They advise me, 'Have a hot shower!'
Next day by the pool, in sun again
Where the elderly can't remember
That yesterday it poured with rain
Their mind's in life's dead December.
The advantage of amnesia
Is that you forget bad days
If you suffer from dementia
You forget rain, complaints and praise
'It rained,' I say, 'it poured last night
That thunderstorm - you must have heard?
The sun, then rain?' I'll save such scenes
Preserve wet weather with wise words
A journey of ten minutes
An obstacle race, takes half an hour
Strangers make friends, we share this war
They advise me, 'Have a hot shower!'
***
Where the elderly can't remember
That yesterday it poured with rain
Their mind's in life's dead December.
The advantage of amnesia
Is that you forget bad days
If you suffer from dementia
You forget rain, complaints and praise
'It rained,' I say, 'it poured last night
That thunderstorm - you must have heard?
The sun, then rain?' I'll save such scenes
Preserve wet weather with wise words
I can move the memory away
My words paint over yesterday
And warm the world with what I say:
'Today's a lovely sunny day!'
Revised Monday March 7th 2022. Copyright
