First Rain

June 8, 2009

“There’s something on the roof, Mum!”
my boy called,
“something on the roof!”
I heard the pitter patter plop plop,
getting more urgent
and it took even me a few minutes
after 9 years
after 9 dry years
to remember that corrugated sound.

“It’s like being in a shower outside, Mum!”
he called from the doorway,
dancing out into the downpour,
spinning his feet round and round in red mud,
“like a shower outside, Mum!”
he laughed
head up, mouth open,
dusty body red stained, dancing.

I remembered the day I stood
watching another boy leave in a Sydney rainstorm,
hating the deep cut
of dampness in my empty bones.

And here my boy was,
loving it like the world’s biggest miracle.

“It’s like the sky is crying, Mum!”
he cried, laughing.
My face was wet –


“The sky is crying, Mum!”
laughing laughing laughing.

Written 26 May 09 – ER



  1. this one is so gorgeous 🙂

    • Thanks Em 🙂 I like writing poetry like fiction sometimes – from another perspective, taking on a different character

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