weather talk.

Overcast

Dark skies tell us something else
of unspoken warnings: a threat
to impede our sunny disposition.

Along with it, perhaps, our peace of mind.

What looms above our heads isn’t
exactly picturesque: Circling shades
of gray, retreating to a stretch of

burgeoning blackness. That’s rain at a distance
anytime soon. The weatherman says
it’s another monsoon. Puff upon puff,

clandestine clouds make their way
to a rendezvous – celestial convicts
on the loose, ready to strike with the first

drop of rain. Will it be just a slight drizzle,
or perhaps a thundering torrent?

We do not know.

The impending darkness blurs our thoughts
and turns off the sun, downing rays
one by one. They disappear

into the void. The air around us quivers
in the infinite silence, only to be shattered
by reluctant raindrops. We’re a little beyond the present

here. But then, all we really need
is a little intuition to predict what’s near.
I hurry to close windows, just in case.

You prefer to keep still, a glum expression
on your face. Your mood is overcast
just like the sky.

Rain begins to fall.