rain
Outcaste sunlight fades away the colors of the day. Stencils and pencils and photos turn gray. A breeze fights its way thru the branches of a tree that rules the paddock in which I lay. Surrounded by the notes, chords and crescendos that brought the world to its knee’s. The grass is wet with a rain that fights to make everything clean. A losing battle. A withering thought. Spinning outwards from oblivion to make you turn back. A direction that does you justice with your indecisive gaze. Incomplete. Incompatible. Incomprehensible acts. More than the merry less than the indignant. An unleveled ground that we are forced to share. No lights can guide us home now. No more second chances. No more bending to the summers faint hopes. I bear an eternal flame thru this ailing as the post-spring rains keep falling.