She picks out and flicks through the Boy's Own Book of Weather.
The page headed “Cumulus” has accumulated a crust of dust.
He pounces upon it. A sunbeam smile penetrates the clouds.
He breathes deeply to expand his lungs
before expounding his viewpoint of the dew point.
Concentration evaporates as brain assimilates
nimbostratus, stratocumulus, altocumulus, cirrocumulus and altostratus.
“Try explaining that to the Man on the Clapham Cumulomnibus”,
she quips. Sighing, he explains that Virga is precipitation in hesitation then evaporation
A shaft of light penetrates the fog, “Dry Rain?”
Almost thunderous now, “Yes”
“So even the rain can’t be bothered sometimes?”
She ducks as book take flight showering her with loose pages.
© Fran Isherwood 2013
Please do not use without the poet’s permission.
Please do not use without the poet’s permission.
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