~
a dour submissive day
the weather be it sloven or slattern
rules the roost with a diffidence
worthy of Pontius Pilate,
with no blink of light to brighten
the grey on grey skies,
trees drape witches’ knickers
like tawdry carnival bunting,
flower heads droop across each other
as forlorn sodden lovers do
and birds dart to cover
from the unexpected chill,
even the turbulence is mournful
rather a bored groan than defiant roar
a drunk yawning before
taking yet another drink
books, music, crossword puzzles all seem
shallow facile distractions, although
Scrabble on a Wednesday seems to be
the only way today
to make my words speak out
*
© Graham R Sherwood 09/23
grahamrichardsherwood.co.uk 