Week upon week

Careful what you wish for.
A proper summer? Hot days
with wall-to-wall sunshine?

False memories of winter:
cloudy skies, gun-metal grey,
lashings of rain curtaining down.

Was it always like that?
Or were there blue skies in between?
And now we have week upon week

of parched lawns, diminished rivers, moorland fires and painful sunburn, sleepless nights and short tempers.

Bring back a touch of winter:
promise-crammed clouds of black and grey,
replenishing streams, greening grass,

dampening moorland, cooling skin
and brows. Blessed, blissful rain.

But careful what you wish for.

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