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A screen door slams means the

cats out for the night, while in

the sleepout I lie under the fan

that slowly stirs the limpid air.

I smoke another Chesterfield.

The house settles and contracts;

the dark is velvet with moths,

batting against the fly screens.


A cooling breeze next arrives

bringing with it a smell of rain.

White flash and close rumbles,

heralding the welcome arrival,

the smell of it on the red earth:

starting now as a patter upon

the iron roof, then a drumming

that comes – faster and faster,

the wet rods of drenching rain


I stub out my last cigarette

and step out onto the veranda;

breath in the smell of wet rain,

strip off my singlet and shorts

to walk out naked into the rain;

letting it lash delicious onto my

receptive skin, mouth, and hair:

precious rain in Australia, the

most precious element of all.



                                           © D G Moody 2022





Poetry by D G Moody The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 215 times
Written on 2022-04-04 at 16:42

Tags Nostalgia 

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Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
At the risk of repeating myself I have to say that this is a fine poem, Dougie. You paint the picture of those moments beautifully. I especially liked ‘the wet rods of drenching rain’ and ‘the dark is velvet with moths’ - wonderfully descriptive. Bravo!

jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Lovely. It always a pleasure to read a poem of appreciation.

John holliday
Nicely in the North of East of England my writing on the subject of rain may not be as.....evocative of the welcome rains......

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Very nice, wonderfully atmospheric.