The wind pushes the rain, buffets, bullies,
\nall around and down, it falls incessant.
\nBut not here.
\nIt lashes, pummels,\u00a0 mizzle.
\nWhile we wait, in shelter hide,
\nthere is always the leeside.<\/p>\n
Behind a boulder tall as a house,
\nunder the overhanging rock,
\nfacing down the valley to the road.
\nSide on to the ridge, lean into the mountain,
\nlook down,\u00a0 figures in the distance,
\nturn back away.<\/p>\n
At a bus stop, somewhere lost,
\nnot wanting the bus,
\njust shelter and dry clothes.
\nDownstairs, at the edge of the bay,
\nwhile a troubled youth sleeps on,
\nnot wanting him to wake.<\/p>\n
Inside the hood of the coat,
\nback to the rain, back to the wind,
\nwalking with wet legs and damp dogs.
\nUnder umbrellas, crushed,
\ninverted, on on the Hoe,
\nor backed under an arch
\non the limestone wall,
\nthe rain chases out the sea.<\/p>\n
Outside a strangers house,
\nreading \u201cThe White Hotel\u201d,
\nhoping for company.
\nEven at home, front doorstep,
\nsmoking, tea in hand,
\nwatching the day develop pointlessly.<\/p>\n
Under the eaves of a ruined house,
\non a frightend council estate,
\nwhere other people live.
\nFrom the tiled changing room block,
\nwilling the waterlogged fields of play dry.<\/p>\n
Hidden behind the failing groynes,
\nby firelight, rod and reel unshelterd,
\nfish for their own sake.
\nSnug, clautrophobic dens, carved in dunes,
\nplastic sheets, old wood, damp sand,
\npushing our time to its limits.<\/p>\n
Best of all, more than once,
\nin a car, atop a cliff, broadside to the wind,
\nLoe Bar, Gunwalloe, thereabouts.
\nLooking over the sea to Mounts Bay,
\nwondering about the rocks below.
\nA stolen lunchtime,
\npasty, Missa Pro Defunctis, Sanctus.
\nRain drumming on the roof,
\noff beat, but in time.
\nSilently watching the wind and rain,
\nnothing but watching the wind and rain.
\nA time of inconsequential perfection.<\/p>\n
In the lee.
\nOn the leeside.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The wind pushes the rain, buffets, bullies, all around and down, it falls incessant. But not here. It lashes, pummels,\u00a0 mizzle. While we wait, in shelter hide, there is always the leeside. Behind a boulder tall as a house, under … Continue reading