Sun’s not sure if she’s welcome,
levers a nose through the doorway,
Helllooo? gently, almost too softly,
but someone among the tumult hears,
Come in. Sun squeezes through the hall,
greets the rest of the weather
and takes a place at the table.
Cloud and Chilled Breeze squint
and reach for sunglasses, sit back,
arms folded, defensive, annoyed.
Rain speaks too loudly, determined
to reclaim the stage but the spittle
disappears in the brightness.
Fog has scuttled to the toilet, overwhelmed.
Sun’s no fool, senses the tension.
Today she’ll just have a quick drink
and head off, leave the rest
to their winter party.
Everyday Thoughts of an Artist 
Wonderful! ❤️
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Thank you, Caroline! Xx
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then she’s here, up ‘n over the mountain so early, full force, having left you to the winter party
and me, I’m in love with the winter party’s pull down under, & it soothes to know she’s back n forth,
transitioning the seasons, while the thermometer here rises above 40C between 9 and 10 am daily
and she squints with laughing lines so bold bright hot, that it’s making mud curls & cracks bigger,
and she stays hanging around in the evenings, reluctant to peek back in down under until the stars
brush her cheeks with purple night blush, and the moon shush’s her laughing eyes and her lashes
let go of the steady up over gaze, and turn across the waters back toward down under …
hey pal, i think, there is not fitting in, just being n seeing and that’s why i’m still in love with you
i c u
and the fitting around the watery world, and ungrateful landscapes and still ur smiling
all hot and not bothered
and i’m in awe and admiration at your steady disarming charm and transformative know
❤
TMB
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My dear TMB,
I feel it is you who should be writing the poetry
and I am pleased the sun is so well looked after, if a little TOO effective, while she is away from here.
Take care in that intense heat.
K xxx
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