Nordre gate

Nordre gate

Nordre gate


A rain in hot summer is welcome
– No-one changes clothes
Droplets sit on skin
– They seem not to move
Daddy-long-legs on the wooden floor
Stunned and baffled by pools of water
People see him
– No-one helps
I’m out on Nordre gate when the rain stops

barry
Barry Kavanagh writes fiction, and has made music, formerly with Dacianos.

Contact him here.