Saturday, May 16
Monday, May 11
concoction that is autumn wind, the rain trails its own path down to my
It is soft, refreshing and reminds me of bleak and beautiful afternoons
spent with Darjeeling on a cup and a hollow notebook by my sides, chewing
on an unspent pen.
The verandah would fill with water in a personal puddle as I watched
through a CCD's eyes.
Even then the heightened sense of anticipation in the soft wind and
fluctuating temperatures temper my own mind as they do now. It is as I say,
an aftershave. All the grind and rugged jagged hills of heat that gather
sweat and dust are cleared and sweetened - though mere gathering pores now.
I love the rain.