After the Rain

After the Rain

T.M. Suffield

a bluetit, feathers wet to the tip
gave a trill to the world
and left it to hang upon the lip
of a cup of fresh silence
like warming stroopwafels’
aroma—nostrils wide you scent
the loam-smell from baffles
steaming at the edge of the pavement
I glance upwards and clouds scatter
to play hide-and-seek from the sun
who smiles back, tips his hat
and laughs the laughter of those
who have survived

---

T. M. Suffield
Poet & Pastor

Tim has been published at Theopolis, Mere Orthodoxy, and Gospel-Centered Discipleship. You can read more of his writing at nuakh.uk

Photography by Kamil Kalkan