Yay! Sun! I always have the notion when the sun appears that perhaps it's time to put the gloves and hats away, but Scotland has had me in training and so they are all still out... They'll go away for a bit come June.
Then came the sun and,
desperate for light we
threw our bodies in its path,
heedless of the wind;
relentless giver
of goosebumps on our bare flesh.
We went outside and
talked with our neighbours,
swapping the pent up stories
for what seemed to be
the first time in months.
Stories come out in the sun.
All that was held in
through the long dreary
months: of grey, khaki, and brown;
of the world rubbed out
by gathering cloud;
of the tears that fall in rain.
But the wind still chilled
and killed the new blooms
and it would not fucking stop.
And then this: It did.
We had sun and warmth
and bare skin and barbecues
for at least two days.
Three perhaps, if you
count the day the rain came back.
But it did come back,
the world rubbing out
and washing the warmth away.
And, like the woman
in the weather house
we went quietly inside,
covered up in clouts
we had not yet dared
to cast. For May is not out.
Safe in our houses
the stories build up,
ready for the next sunshine.
But now we huddle
and greet with the words
"that's our summer: we've had it."
© Cara L McKee 18/5/16
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