Amongst the tipping rain
I saw an arrow falling
And it was lost in the rain
And fell into a pool
The 1950s house would not stand still
Until I drew flowers in the garden
The house was drawn with crayons
By a child of distant memory
It’s strange how some memories endure
Like mirrors in the sky
The ringdove that sat on the roof
Had the cloud wrapped around it
One of the women was looking at something
The other woman looked ambivalent
They were drawn carefully with a light touch
They do not seem to know me
