A City Weather Poem
by Rowan Blair Colver
Perspiring heavens collide, with lime and iron entwined,
Forming beaded dribbles of wet, 'pon the walls outside.
Window wide to capture cooling, currents twisting in,
Concrete cages, edifice, weathered walls I'm in.
Pitch perfect hillside, darkness of night walks storm,
Shadow sweeping motorcars, trailing splash filmy form.
Electric lights in orange, reflecting in the asphalt floor,
Mirage of a nether world, backwards in inverted doors.
Desperate and drenched, summer clothed walkers shiver,
Caught by cold, night time world, each pace bringing nearer,
Respite, rest, retirement from desiring home,
Friendly, empty, favoured or alone,
A palace from the pressing rain,
Eye sore but what for,
It's dry, it's warm,
It's my own blue council door.
Rowan Blair Colver
This poem can be found in "A Poet, On Park Hill? Outside The Box by Rowan Blair Colver"