Rain drops—
an inverted flock hanging
on blue laundry line
Rain weights
radiant clematis petals
white to earth
Rain gleams
dull surfaces
darkens others
The bounce, the tap,
pelt, pinprick, splat of rain
In pockmarked laneways, rain migrates
into mosaic of mirrors
The lullaby of rain on the roof
blur of rain on my glasses
Cancelled bike ride, wet shoes,
unmown lawn of rain
Destroyed crop of
saved crop of
Rain is
without rationale
without reproach
Rain rains
It is we who suffer
the melancholy of meaning.
This Year, The Walrus Turns 20
For two decades, Canadians have relied on our thought-provoking journalism to make sense of our world.
As we look at Who We Are Now in 2023, help us power the next 20 years of inspiring conversations and fact-checked journalism. Donate to The Walrus today.
With thanks
Jennifer Hollet
Executive Director
Jennifer Hollet
Executive Director
