Rain Morning – a poem by Diana Durham

Rain Morning

needle fine the rain
etches the view:

gingerbread roofs
pebbledash
between
the burdened lilac blooms,

finer still the cast of thought—
catching already
what it doesn’t see—
names, between sight
and sight, itself:
grey suburban
day.

Blue tits sway the leafy spindles
fly on,
blue green leaves in the wind

where in the giant sky
a climbing cloud bank
slides along a silver field
fraying into rain,
fading

there between light and light
we see.

 

Diana Durham is the author of three poetry collections: Sea of Glass, To the End of the Night and Between Two Worlds; the novel The Curve of the Land and two nonfiction books: The Return of King Arthur and, most recently, Coherent Self, Coherent World: a new synthesis of Myth, Metaphysics & Bohm’s Implicate Order.

 

Published by

Sarah

poet, tutor, runner, cat lady

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