The storm clears
The rivers run and sigh
Flowing streams of tears
The grass shake off their manes bright and green
And the possums gather looking for bread
As the moon smiles upon the earth’s sheen
Steam rises from its manholes
Emitting the stench of its deep underbelly
I walk along Burwood park and Coles
And my bonsai breathes a sigh of relief
The rain is gone
But where is the sun?
It can scarcely wait till dawn
