Clouds and broken pipes flood our front yard

with wet and grey and puddles 

 reflecting 

snails sloshing  around the overflow of shade from a tangerine tree

sparaxis   petals open comma shaped lashes,

some squinting,

others open eyed 

as  white cabbage moths loop around, whittling  question marks in the fog…

and a  staccato of bird song tip taps on my front room window