The Sunday Poem: Dark Rain by Andrew Motion

Thick skylight clattering

on cue, clear drops like coins

from clouds’ economy

slopped through. Dark rain of no

account and yet already guttering

until mind follows slant again:

the suddenly too steep to stop

down-slicing track of ash

and roof a honeycomb as was;

then supple river-sounds;

whipped whining reeds,

and through their seething screen

the groan of oars, and almost

human breathing.

Andrew Motion was poet laureate from 1999-2009. His new collection, Gravity Archives, is published by Faber later this month

Illustration by Chris Riddell