Sunday, 8 May 2011

Saturday Rain



like swans 


The rain falls down
on to the roof. Heavy rain
that sounds like running feet.
I shut my eyes and see him
walking away

with another short man, 
maybe it's Jesus. Both
dressed in brown. One
of them lifts an arm high
to make a rainbow.

On the way out,
in the foyer, the folded umbrellas 
of mourners look like swans 
about to swim off 
into the grey rain.



Kay McKenzie Cooke

2 comments:

J.T. Webster said...

A beautiful poem Kay.

Kay Cooke said...

Thanks Sue.

Clocking Out

 I have been neglecting this blog for some months. I think perhaps I should face facts and accept that it is indeed time to retire this blog...