Rain

If it never stops
I expect
we’ll adapt.

We’re already used to umbrellas
but we’ll  wear
long macs

with hoods.
We’ll cancel
parades.

No more carnivals.
No marches.
No pleasure

in gathering together
on the shiny streets
(even in summer).

No hanging
your washing out to dry.
Ever. Hmpf!

Writing all of this
is causing me
to let out a long sigh.

I’m imagining
rivers overflowing,
roofs leaking,

wildlife drowning,
and wondering
what else

might rain down on us
in years
to come.

But this is just a poem.
A poor poem at that.
Something for me

to fill some time with
on a dark wet day.
It can’t rain for ever.

Duffy