After posting my old song Speed Of Light which contains the delicate phrase “fucking in the summer rain”, I remembered this poem that I wrote about the same incident, with slightly more genteel vocabulary.
It’s part of the same series of poems as It is a hot evening in July that I wrote to try to capture a precise moment in time or emotion.
Moments 3 (10.7.87)
The lethargy of evening
insects in the long grass
the langour and the language
I will not find a meaning
I will not bind my feeling
soft rain silvers cobwebs
on the stone for Stan and Ellen
that we lie upon all grassy
when the world gives up its whirling
for an instant small as insects
in the calmness after climax
in the stillness of the twilight
we are here