One cold day, some time ago

boat clouds

The cloud cover is so thick
that the street lights remain on
and the foliage gives off the most muted green.

Everything is soggy.
Nothing has a chance to dry,
as rain and mist
saturate leaf, skin and roof tile.

It’s a wet cold. It permeates the bones,
and I start believing that the sun is a dream –
a temporary hallucination that peaks through for a moment
then retreats back into a parallel universe.

And I retreat, too –
into a cozy haven
of blanket, book and coffee.

Bless the clouds. Bless the rain and the cold.

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