Coping with the Weather

In Scotland, occasionally the summer just doesn't happen. This is one of those summers, where even the most optomistic pal is quite devestated. Yes, night feels like day and the cloud-cover is consant although sometimes the sun comes out,.. just to set. That's almost worse and what is there to do but put it in song?  Put it in a poem.  Put it down and then bring the sunshine into you face from some other strong but invisible place.  It's therapy.  Enjoy, indulge in your thoughts and leave me a haiku of your own at the bottom should you feel so inclined! Thanks, Cera

The sun comes out just to set

There’s no heading long-first
Fists full of Dynamite
Arrogant Anniversary fireworks
Birthing Burnt summer hands
Steamed Charcoal
Choosing chatter,
Cool convolutions;
Billowing brain matter
Grey Sky
Laundry soap putting out the fire of
Poppy-red remembering
Jangly lost purpose
Squeaky left-over meaning

I scratched it out of words for you
and reading is for those without sun

Who can recall what time it is?
With this soot-cave of clouds
So sweetly concerned with sheltering us
A too-cross Auntie
With two tight lace-up boots
She stands, a tower.
Looming just to loom
7 year-old dust on and
8 yeard-old broom

No boom,
No Thunder
No sign of the Gods or their lovers

It’s just us,
A wet hammock and
A want that cannot be called desire