The rain drifts down, straight down, no wind,
A transparent screen to the bush-clad hillside.
The bush is still, and old.
Rain cloud mist has leaked down a valley,
Bringing to mind lands of dinosaurs
And primeval forests,
But for the high rise apartment block in the foreground.
Still, the vestiges of modern life
Hold their ground tentatively
Against the weight of all that rain,
All that bush,
And all that time.