Here, the sun
boundaries, and cries
out over the valleys.
She reaches over the hills,
grasping at the smog, rising up
Into the layers of smoke and fog
Swirling above the selfish, spotlit town.
It bleeds through Her fingers and ascends to the
Clouds, rich with rivers of black tar, asbestos, rise!
Swirling, brooding in the atmosphere, coughing, choking
To the end.
"Why does it rain so much these days?"
A poem about the weather.
#1 in the Bonus collection of Distant Dystopia.