Windy alley has morphed
Into dead wind alley
The gumtrees hang on
Limp and despondent.
Not a leaf stirs
No frill in the air
Heavy as lead,
Muted sound of footsteps,
Birds hiding and silent
Waiting for that burst of rain
Regenerating, refreshing,
Cleaning, healing,
Life giving
When will it be?
But the sky is charged
With the empty promise
Of a late sunny afternoon
Despite the grey haze
Hovering over the hills.
The rain will come with the wind,
There is no wind
Therefore no rain,
Waiting is the rule of the game
In dead wind alley.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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