Sometimes the dreary cloudy morning
That augurs an afternoon deluge
Is just what I need.
Don’t want to wake up
But can’t go back to sleep.
I’m already showered and out the door,
Driven to earn my daily bread.
The sky is an unmade bed
Of heaped up blankets and tousled comforters
That I reach for through the window.
I want to wrap myself in its sodden softness,
Float along in the gray unfallen
Rain straining at the edges of gaseous nothing.
Not because I’m cold or avoidant.
I just want to be cocooned,
Cloaked in layers of billowing
Obscurity just for one day.
The sun will appear tomorrow,
Or someday soon,
Amidst an infinite expanse,
So high and impossibly blue.
I’ll shed my coverings then
And emerge from the mists anew.