RAINY DAY RHYME

a rainy day poem written whilst observing an old man in a London Boarding House.

The man in the raincoat tuts and mutters Stares at the puddles that form in the street That splash up upon his cold angry feet From the gathering streams that flow in the gutters Tomorrow is a time like far away And memory a knife like ice And hope a sun to sink again When London winter clips the skin He turns again the pavement then Spins out, he’s glaring like a grimace And imagining some fonder place He ascends the creaking stairs to the kitchen Water boiled for tea and heat He hates the furniture and tends To wait for some fair weather friend The window rataplans with wind and wet Murdering a cigarette In the saucer full of ends How can they say that god is good When he lets it rain on weekends