New poem - After the rain

After the rain

 Between the dark wood and caravan park,
behind the beach at Yellowcraig,
a field of corn was cut for another year,
leaving pale gold stubble rows,
ripe for raiding rooks and crows.
As a hare sidled onto the far side 
of the field it kept nibbling as birds 
dropped down around it.
Then rain stomped down in furrows
and I lost sight of the hare until
looking up after the storm, 
there it was, paws outstretched,
a cloud-hare sparring with a cloud-crow 
as stratus torn and holed
was shot through with partial rainbows.

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