Their game

Mind, meandering

with the moon,
in a rainy afternoon.
Both unheard, unseen
wet within the scene.

‘I love you’… a tune all of a sudden
in a low voice, almost hidden
disappeared, dearly drained
‘please don’t come out in the sun
we are condemned in the dark
until we witness night to be fun
sky’s beating the old drum, hark!’

‘Oh don’t go! Don’t go!
I have scores of chores to do,
mind doesn’t listen to me you know
there they’re out again now?
Their game begins anew.’