This is the rain
That isn’t really rain –
That comes before the rain
That will be –
But why the fuss?
Didn’t we always know the
Summer wouldn’t last forever?
If it wasn’t what you wanted
Surely there’s only your self
To blame for that?
December’s insanities,
Brewing in the still room
Begin to giggle, little
Secret red bubbles;
The dark that isn’t real darkness,
That comes before
The dark that is:
What’s next?
Really?
You have to ask?
Surely that’s the question
Best left to answer itself?