Whisky skies split splashing us to work
purposely bursting sandbagged streets
drenching pigeons grounded in the downpour
spilling the bellies of belching grids
riotous rivulets racing buses like babbling boys
in the serious city the capillary action
of wet feet escapes us from suited restraint
and umbrellas abandoned arm in arm we puddle jump.
Rain
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I’m loving the whisky skies!
It’s true! They were sort of browny, which doesn’t have the same ring about it at all 🙂
That’s why you a such a talented lady – my description of murky skies would just fall flat!
Whisky skies? Marvelous! 🙂
Subhan Zein
Thank you, dear Subhan x
sounds like kolkata rain when it pours down merrily 🙂
It is good to see you here today, Sharmishtha. Poetry is a great at making connections between us, isn’t it? Even if we all see and feel things differently, some images work to bring us together. x