Hail fall making noise
in straight white lines
and people start
in their seats
like children wide-eyed
and briefly charming.
A proper boy says,
Look, the sky is going blue.
Well, showers end.
Eyes soon get smaller.
On, my own (temp.) loves,
up Three Shires Oak Road
to various elsewheres.
ReplyDeleteNow the downpour's over and we're here safe and dry, I'll be having the Ikonik Buzz Kut, thank you!
It's the haircut of choice for the Bearwood boy.
ReplyDeleteProperly charming hail, WB. I haven't seen hail for twenty years I think, enjoyed this brief shower all the more. With eyes and ears getting rather bigger.
ReplyDeleteTwenty years. Blimey.
ReplyDeleteI always forget how much I love those perfect little stones till I hear them falling again.
And thank you, Marie. Very glad to have shared strange weather with you.
ReplyDeleteIt's nice to hear hail again. Maybe one day I'll be able to write an asian typhoon for you.
ReplyDeleteThat's a good thought; weather I haven't ever felt or tasted or caught the scent of in words.
ReplyDelete