Squall

The rain camebeating down in sheets of gloomsoaking through the blossom’s dustfeeding shoots in loamy soilnourishing me.My tree is wild with febrile rootsthe bluebells clamour to be heard& birds are nesting in the leavesthey deafen me.The rain came& so will you I’m toldstanding on the corner wherewe always meet,hat pulled overhair that’s wetwith nature’s gold.