Rain in Pirongia, poetry by Elizabeth Barton at Spillwords.com
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Rain in Pirongia

Rain in Pirongia

written by: Elizabeth Barton



It’s raining in Pirongia, a mythic place
traced in pale mountains on the skyline,
veiled by falling rain, inching eastwards.
The air is scented, sweetly damp; telltale gusts
augur the arrival of wintry weather.
Clouds now obscure the sun; a mood, a memory
spurs a far-off time where shadows fall;
uplifting breezes roam the forests
enclosing Pirongia in ancient tales
of people who lived in mist so long ago.
Furtively, they walk abroad before the rain,
inviting clouds to linger in treetops and soften
fern beds where their weightless footsteps fall;
in rain and mist they may see us too,
and know where two worlds meet
in the first sign of changing weather.

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