midnight motorway noises

welcome to the glasgow winter.
get settled, find a sofa, ask for tea.
you might be here a while...

the downpour arrived
quietly pushing open the glass doors, smiling at me
and settling comfortably in the sky above like it'd never been gone.

i smiled back, of course.
so wonderful to see, after all this time,
making me feel like i'm seventeen again,
fresh from the summer, new to the city.

"old friend, how've you been?"

"i've made up my mind" says the rain.
"i'm back for good."
the rain missed the city and enjoys the occaisional drink on ashton lane,
i can sympathise...

days later, two girls with one umbrella smile knowingly at me as i pass,
"did you hear? the rain is back for good."
i nod and smile back.
the city feels correct again.

(the rain gives me a wink as i keep walking)

a man in a porkpie hat on a bike flies past, the back wheel spattering behind him,
he's wearing tesco bags on either of his shoes - the rain's preferred type of footwear.
"don't panic! the rain is back! the rain is back! don't panic!"
i laugh as he zips by.

(the rain pats my back as i keep walking)

a father is explaining the news to his daughter,
walking back from glasgow academy.
"it went away, and people were different,
but i promised it would be back some day didn't i, darling?
and i would never break a promise to you."
he briefly drops the small rucksack he was holding over her head to his side
and the rain ruffles her hair and hops off her nose as she looks up to meet his wide eyes.

(the rain and i are friends)

as i walk, i remember the rain.
enduring or...
persistent or...
continual or...
maybe chronic..?

as i round the corner onto byres road, the rain is all over everywhere just as promised on that first day. i try hard to be accomodating, but the rain sneaks into my shoes, ties my laces together and i trip and fall flat on my face, biting thourgh my bottom lip and fracturing my kneecap. the rain lingers, giggling.


welcome to the glasgow winter.

woop!