03 May 2005

Sunshine and showers

The sky is blue, the morning bright
because it rained all bloody night

and every drop of that cold rain
has lodged itself into my brain

The fluffy sheep dot the green field -
When summer comes their wool they'll yield

When autumn comes I'll buy a jumper
but now it's May: I need a hamper

to have a picnic with the ghost
of one I thought forever lost

And sheep and grass and blue sky
will tell me I must forever try

To strike some sort of conversation
with this lost ghost / this small nation.

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