When I was a child
And it was hot
I used to turn on the hose
And splash
Filling up buckets
And filling up pots
Washing the verandah down
With Mum
Turning on the tap
And letting all that water
Run
And run
As I grew older
The water seemed to become scarce
Not the kind that runs out of tap
But the sort that comes from up there 👆
So much time waiting
And praying
Watching for signs
Crickets
Flying ants
Ant nests built taller
In anticipation of flooding water
Surely
Well that’s what the adults said
And so we waited with bated breath
Guts drawing tighter
With each storm gone round
Sometimes it felt like
We had never drawn a good solid breath in our entire lives
And the pressure became a strap
Drawn tight
Tugged at and hitched higher
Every night
Barely sleeping
all that breathing out
With nothing coming in
Except flies
And dust
And whirl winds
When it begins
It is with wonder
Spots on a hot tin roof
The first
Sizzling
Evaporating
Then harder and harder
Till you can’t hear anyone speaking
And you don’t have to
Because everyone is grinning
And the gutters overflow
And the water runs in rivulets
Through the red dirt
Turning it to mud
Grey light
Shuttering the paddocks from view
And all the time
The roar
Of rain on the roof
It’s coming
It’s coming
It will be here soon
