Large heavy clouds overhead
seem pregnant with sorrow.
That thought clings to her
like fog to the eave of a house,
she pulls her depression
around herself a little tighter.
(Author’s note: It was VERY hard to follow A Rambling Poet’s gorgeous spring colors with this bit of grey. It was in my head when I got here and so here it be.
… I guess that’s spring for you,
flowers and rain, blooms and drear.
Love your colors, A.R. Poet. – Melissa)