That blob of yellow or white that used to
float above and brought forth Oxytocin
that influenced my ability to bond and even
to love has gone through the change of life
It’s been awhile since that orb brightened
my day with light. The sky has given up its
chameleon like ability to change colors and
remains an ugly gray.
Gone are the sun beams that used to act like
a sponge that extracted blue thoughts from my mind
and fill it with bright orange light. Gone are the warm
feelings, and gone is any love I held.
After so many days of gloom, I’m beginning to
wish I couldn’t remember the bright and sunny
days that sometimes colored our high mountain
town with pink skies and painted the mountains red.
I’m told the changes in our weather is from global
warming and I imagine I’m in Seattle where dark
skies are welcomed every day. After so many days of
rain, I know how Noah must have felt.
I build an ark from trees in my yard. I’ll only
take animals and bugs when the flood comes, because
this time it wasn’t God who changed the sky from light
to dark. We all know who’s responsible, so I won’t give
us a chance to do it again.
gray skies > Noah's Ark > poetry > rain