Delayed in a downpour,
In a doorway we embrace.
A confusion of cerulean blue
African skies cry, raging tears
into golden sand.
The wind a gentle wraith,
stirred suddenly insane,
in swirling swaths of wet life.
running down tanned
and brown burnt faces.
Stunned they stand
in the sheltered places
as rain collects
and runs in raging rivulets
and rapids over dimpled paths and
Drumming off stone and bone
and awnings of canvas and plastic
the fantastic dance of cascading
in the dazzle of returning sun
as the last of it runs to drains.
Wet stains evaporate in steaming heat
under skies once more blue,
a world lighter and brighter
I take your hand and on we go to
© Dave Kavanagh @ daithiocaomanaigh.com