I like sprinkles on my Sunday
slathered with syrup sticky in grey
dripping in melted sleepy-eyed gloom
sliding down panes of my room.
It turns me rainbow gay
not to be taken the wrong way
In its darkness- I sneak a smile,
life agrees, Its been awhile.
The pungent scent of pavement
emitting its stench of sealed fragrant
plumes of sweat
musty and wet
Dissolving salty sugared beads
Once barren earth now growing weeds
Is it
drizzling a bit?
Was it
just some spit?
I think felt it on my nose
(I hate it squishing between my toes)
As though the leaden sky
releasing a bitter sigh
drools in premonition
soothed by heavy submission
Rushing she pushes a bitter wind
Herd and gather inside the thin-skinned
She peaks on her progress
breaking clouds to see her mess
sinister rays
threaten the sprinkly days
this restless phase
an extra scoop of praise
A hazy solemn Sunday treat
A lazy indulgent guilt free sweet
On a day of cleansing and forgiveness
Weather (or not) blessedly religious.
Image of painting by Paul Cornoyer (1864-1923), "The Plaza After Rain",[Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
