Cataract

Before the moment when the cloud cleared
I had no idea how blue the sky was,
no idea how silvery the rain
though I’d felt it many times
falling gently
or fierce
as a cataract
after a storm
and I’d searched my memory
and my imagination
to find how they were coloured.
Before the moment when the cloud cleared
from my eyes
and tears spilled
like cataracts,
I had no clear idea.





First published in The Drabble, July 4 2021