Weathering

poem by Ayaan, one of Ioche's staff writers

This came to me in a period of the very hot summers Australia tends to have. There wasn’t much thought behind this piece, except that I wanted to put my feelings to pen and paper.

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the sun is doing too much today,
pressing its golden, unrequited face
against the glass of my darkened room,
where the toast is cold and I am staying.
it's an aggressive kind of blue outside,
the sort that demands a picnic and a light jog,
while i'm just trying to cultivate this gloom
in the quiet company of a leaking tap.
i draw the curtains in the afternoon,
a heavy velvet no for the cheerful birds
because some saturdays aren’t for blooming
they’re for sitting in the dim and being sour.

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