when an unexpected whirl of wind tosses grey veils of rain
across the Common; gobbets of roof-tile moss and mud
plop on my doorstep. The parakeets, no doubt bewildered,
flung among new-leafed trees, are blown to destinations
never planned for. Flowers I planted yesterday fight for
their lives in sodden borders. The sky turns dark. I switch
on every light, write this… Abruptly it is over. Blue sky,
calm cirrus clouds, warm spring sun and I, sitting foolish
in the spotlight by my tall wide windows on a shining day,
war still roaring from the TV screen.
