︎     ︎     ︎    ︎    ︎︎︎     ︎     ︎    ︎   ︎ 





Weather Defines my Day



Some days I’m exceedingly shallow,
Pressed flat against the land like a shadow
Disconnected from the body that casts me and keeps me alive
defined overwhelmingly by my absence.
an impression in the geography of bedsheets.


Others I am like a cloud, floating distant overhead,
Like some formless meandering observer, surveyor of a vast but empty terrain
The entirety of my being wrought into no more than a passing condition
Sometimes I might scatter into little more, dispersed by troubled winds
While others I lay heavy and grey, condensing into myself before falling away like rain
And scattering on the ground, running downhill in trickling streams.
Obscuring windows and carving rivers.


Sometimes the light strikes me right, and from around me
sunbeams radiate through a rosy evening sky.
I am greeted by a chorus of insects, appreciative and celebratory
And glow under the warm gaze of a sun in the golden hour
Afterwhich night falls, and engulfed in a rich darkness
I might hide a portion of the stars for myself





︎︎︎   ︎︎︎