Resurrection
Tuesday, 26 March 2024
| Alvoli Anderson
why does water fall in the city?
no trees to water, only steeples
vain, residents utter in profane
clouds, go back to whence you came
but understanding, little have they
for clouds cry not only for plants but people
for clouds fly to move along...
...
early afternoon, the rain, it came
as soon as we left the book shop for the train
what untimely timing
for the sudden downpour
what dramatic distortion
of pillars of floors
of walls into doors
the streets into streams
my class into havoc
my teacher, to Mary of Magdalene
but rain, you remind us -
or at least remind some
to make use of our coat again,
to put it back on
your rivers of gutters, to
remain running along
in our direction
through a squelch in our sole
to share an umbrella
or even a song
in the air erase
a polluted city's stain
under Flinders Street Station
as we wait for the train
to take us back home
and watch the clouds fall
for rain, you remind us
of where we belong
Alvoli Anderson is a student at Bayside Christian College who evidently enjoys poetry.
This poem was first published in The Overcoat, Issue 16 (Christmas 2023), p.6. Republished with permission.
Image credits:
Couple walking in street while raining by Atilla Bingöl at Unsplash.
Sydney Botanic Gardens skyscrapers and flower by Karina Kreminski.