In the midafternoon, a darkening sky and thunder rumbling about in the clouds. An electric streak across the sky like the Eighties. From the doorway, the coolness and the smell of wet. The rain comes, shyly. After, raindrops hang from the laundry line.
Labels: Travel: Sydney


2 Comments:
Come lads! What shall we play at, whispered grandpa, busily dangling us.
The seaside! The seaside, we shouted.
Down the river Clyde, I added.
For which impertinence, I received a mighty buffet.
Bleeding my tender nose, with his fast white knuckle.
(Thanks Ivor)
Oh! Seaside! Scotland! We must away, immediately! But how will I recognize you, O anonymous one?
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