When the Rain Stops

The relentless rain slows, so

I look up just as the sun flares

and silvers the tiled rooftops.

Gleaming bright, a lofty convoy 

of cloud sails in from the north

across the vast ocean that is sky;

then white hot sun, aims slanting rays

dazzling through the windows,

spangling the raindrops in liquid fire.

                         

But what I’d like to know is,                         

whether the robin which sings at night              

under the pitiless glare of street lights   

is singing now,

               just for the glory of great open skies.
 

Sue Burley 2015