Monday, July 12, 2004

rain

It is finally raining in Sydney. It hasn't been a lot of rain but over the last few days the gardens are drinking, at least. Maybe it is because rain can be rare here that it gets into my lines, the wish for that smell and splash which gets sounded out in words. These are often my lyric moments, the material evidence of the weather, how air touches you, heat and cold inside and outside.



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