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Where is the rain when the air’s hot and dry?
Falling from some other silver-grey sky.
Where is the mist when the day’s clear and bright?
Veiling the mountain tops out of our sight.
Where is the snow on a bright summer morn?
When the birds have been singing from earliest dawn?
Falling so softly, long into the night,
Painting some far distant scenery white.
Where is the wind when the day’s calm and still?
Rustling the trees on a far-away hill.
Where is the sun on a cold winter’s day?
Gleaming on golden sands far far away.
Where are the white horses capping the waves
When the sea’s like a millpond beneath the sun’s haze?
Beyond the horizon they gallop away,
Where the clouds hide the sun and the oceans are grey.
Weather Elsewhere © Anita Allen 11th February 2002