Written by: Raymond Westley

It is two o’clock and the sun is shining.
Its  rays are shimmering on the ground.
The rain had come with perfect timing.
School is out, and boys fooling around.

The rays are reflected from high above
and the rain has fallen at the usual time.
Why does it happen always at lunch?
And yet again for afternoon tea?

Those were the days on the high veldt
when summer days were predictable.
School is out and shoes are off
some are paddling in the gutter.

The water is warm, but not from the sky.
Warmed by the road that was steaming hot,
after a brief shower it then becomes dry.

The warm water flows only one way,
until it finds the grate of the drain.
With a gurgle, a swish and a sway,
it will be in darkness until it emerges again.

Now as a stream it will see the sun.
It’s hard to imagine that some of the drops
will find their way to the mighty ocean
and start all over again.