Gerald England Poems

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"Bright with sunny periods
some cloud, occasional showers"
says the local TV forecast.

It has been persistently precipitating
for more than twelve hours.

On the doorstep
a soggy mass of pulp
is all that is left
of my note to the milkman.

The dog wags her tail
in a desperate message;
I open the back door,
she steps out,
stops,
looks round,
then dashes for the nearest
patch of green,
does that she has to do.

Back inside,
the hearthrug
doubles as a towel.

Only an incoming aircraft
breaks the greyness
of the birdless sky.

Outside my window,
the sodden rosebush
drips.

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