Getting a spot of rain today,
the flowers don’t mind nor the sun faded grass,
but I do.
Workmen are coming to remove the old cane roof
and put a new one on.
It won’t do to sit indoors with an open umbrella reading the papers;
it’s also bad luck I’m told.
I do like the outdoors
especially seen from my terrace or
from the kitchen window,
used to walk around in the bush landscape around here,
on sandaled feet,
until the locals told me
that the place was full of snakes,
not that I did see any,
now it doesn’t matter anyhow
bloody angina has grounded me,
but not for good I hope.
Rang the builder about the rain,
the man must be fed up with me now,
he’ll be here tomorrow with five of his mates,
it won’t take more than a few days
and he promised me,
with mirth in his voice,
that there will not be any rain.
Maybe he’s right
dogs are barking,
running up and down the village only road,
but I have taken the umbrella out of the closet
just in case.