rainy days and mondays

Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer
utters itself. So a woman will lift
her head from the sieve of her hands and stare
at the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.

Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth
enters our hearts, that small familiar pain;
then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth
in the distant Latin chanting of a train.

Pray for us now. Grade 1 piano scales
console the lodger looking out across
a Midlands town. Then dusk, and someone calls
a child's name as though they named their loss.

Darkness outside. Inside the radio's prayer -
Rockall. Malin. Dogger. Finisterre

My favourite poem ever :) Felt February called for this, even though its pretty much the last we shall see of the month, this year.
In other news, term is ending. Is this a good or bad thing? I can't decide yet. Also, its raining heavily and not getting any warmer. Who knew winter would last so long. Who knew sky could be so grey. Who would have thought I could write so much about the weather.

Song for february: Step on my old size nines- Stereophonics. About dancing on someone's shoes in an old folks home.
Will I get old and laugh, about sthg?
Will I get what I want from this world, daydreamer.
Step on my old size nines and I'll take you round...

Much love to all of you. May the weather be better for you girls in all the various places that you are (: