Unseasonal–
is the soft drizzle, that mists up
my window pane – enveloping
and comforting –as a mother
to her newborn child.
Unseasonal–
when roles are reversed–
wanting, to take foetal position
for yourself – to be cuddled and nursed,
still oblivious to the world of heartache.
Unseasonal–
when Autumn leaves loiter about,
wanting, retrieval of the buds of Spring,
retracing the steps of your youth,
wandering– what you would do differently.
Unseasonal–
though it may seem– rain will come
as it chooses, soft drizzle or pelting hard!
Is it in your stars, the choice or the measure–
or do you just choose to dance in the rain…
wherever and whenever it comes …
Chevvy's diary 