January…
Dreary early morning rise;
Lifeless pre-dawn trudge through rain-soaked suburban streets.
Saturated concrete slabs reflect mock-moon street lights;
And occasional pollarded plane-trees – still dripping –
Imitate the night’s incessant drizzle.
Somewhere behind the cloud-curtain the sun rises;
Unseen until noon, hanging low over the house-tops.
A soft south-west wind succeeds the rain-clouds;
And a clear sky cleverly depicts a still-distant spring.
Between the last and the next cloud-belt,
A single, leafless flowering cherry displays a few flowers,
And a pigeon coos and fan-tails to its mate.
For a few moments – fooled with mirages of summer –
Life returns.
And the streets are trod with a lighter tread.