When the Rain Stops
The relentless rain slows, so
I look up just as the sun flares
and silvers the tiled rooftops.
Gleaming bright, a lofty convoy
of cloud sails in from the north
across the vast ocean that is sky;
then white hot sun, aims slanting rays
dazzling through the windows,
spangling the raindrops in liquid fire.
But what I’d like to know is,
whether the robin which sings at night
under the pitiless glare of street lights
is singing now,
just for the glory of great open skies.
Sue Burley 2015