Monday morning rain
on the first day of July.
The sun is soundly sleeping,
only grey clouds appear
in the morning sky.
The birds are chirping loudly,
the rain will not stop them sing,
Glasgow has woken,
for nature has spoken
as church bells no longer ring.
The overgrown weeds that
lap up and absorb the fresh tears
of the morning rain,
grow and expanded with no pain
for landscapers may never return for years.