Summer Rain

Brother Wind streaks through the gum leaves, playing

with each leaf on the way.

Sky rumbles, grey and smudgy as smoke.

The smell of rain on asphalt replaces the smell of rain itself.

Leaves and gumnuts crash through warm, sticky air.

Her dress whips around her bare legs.

Naked feet sink into moist grass,

bindies no longer prickly.

A lone kookaburra laughs, but stops as no friends join in.

Sister Rain lashes down, born into a world of wet heat.