when it came, the sky, refusing to be less than blue
pummeled the earth like stampeding horses
in vain to raise a shroud of dust to prove
the impotence of water. Resting on elbows
we lined the sill of my parents room
watched as inch by inch the water rose.
...
what manner of weather is rain
....
Jean Metcalf was sending dreetings
to Cyprus when in ones and twos
it came. Cutting through theWindowlene
the expected rain. What manner of weather.
...
Jean Metcalf sent her greetings to Cyprus
from another world.
...
Jean Metcalf sent her greeting from to Cyprus
as we watched in silent awe, and wondered
what manner of weather was rain. The sky,
refusing to be less than blue, pummeled
on the sun-baked soil, which gave no ground
as inch on inch the flood rose. My father
opened the window, and cackling like crows
we caught puddles in our palmed hands.
....
What manner of weather was rain, that came
from a sky refusing to be less than blue.
We lined the window of my parents room,
watching in silence, the inch on inch rise
of impotent water as parched earth.
....
What manner of weather was rain, that came
from a sky refusing to be less than blue.
We lined the window of my parents room
watching in silence, the inch on inch rise
of impotent water, lift the dust from grass.
M father opened the window and we
took turns to catch puddles in our palms
and joke of the flood. Reflected...
,,,
My father opened the window, and we
took turns to catch puddles in our palms
and joke of the flood, for the sun-baked soil
gave no ground to the water.
....
and joked of the flood, for the sun-baked soil
gave no ground to the emergent lake
as it crossed our path with silver
to pool against the house.
....
Jean Metcalf sent greeting to Cyprus
when it came. What manner of weather was
rain. The sky fighting to be less than blue,
pummeled the earth with stampeding hooves
that raised at first a shroud of dust
to hide the impotence of water. My father
opened the window and cackling like crows
we leaned out to catch puddles in our hands -
blood warm, grave thick
....
we leaned to catch blood warm puddles
in our hands, and sipped them like dying men
from afternoon films. The sun-baked earth
gave no ground as inch on inch the water rose
breaking over the breakwater of the path
to mark the wall,
....
that raised at first a shroud of dust to hide
the impotence of water. My father opened
the window and leaned to catch
bloodwarm puddles in our hands, sipped at
like dying men in afternoon films.
....
Jean Metcalf sent greeting to Cprus
when it came. What manner of weather was
rain. The sky, still fghting to be less than blue,
pummeled the earth with stampeding hooves
that raised at first a shroud of dust
to hide the impotence of water. My father
opened the window and we leaned out
to catch bloodwarm puddles in our hands,
sipped at like dying men in afternoon films.
The sunbaked soil gave no ground, inch
on inch the water rose, then broke
over the path to mark the wall
thigh high on Action Man.
....
That raised at first a shroud of dust to hide
the impotence of water. My father opened
the window and leaned out to catch bloodwarm
puddles in our hands, sipped at like dying men
in afternoon films.
....
the window and we leaned out to catch
bloodwarm puddles in our hands, sipped at
like dying men in afternoon films.
...
sycamore
anomolous
...
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