Whitterings

The rain weeps down on our bumpy streets
a sky without color
(even grey would take too much effort)
and I ponder cancelled plans
early laundry
testy tempers

The leaves are taking their time this year
not certain
that the time has come to fall
casually ambling through the warm wetness
half-changed
holding on for dear life

Extraneous damp
tossed down on us
like tears for a love story
or for a lioness set free
automatic

If the sky finds relief though
if the sky is sighing
I am fine with it