In my years,
I have noticed,
writing about the birds and the trees
comes with great ease,
but an ordinary day with pale grey skies,
and flat stale air
is a subject as to which not many care.
A day when birds are too bored to fly;
people drearily roam outside.
When there are too many clouds for the sun to shine.
On such days, us wallflowers seem to thrive.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 3:55 PM UTC
In my years,
I have noticed,
writing about the birds and the trees
comes with great ease,
but an ordinary day with pale grey skies,
and flat stale air
is a subject as to which not many care.
A day when birds are too bored to fly;
people drearily roam outside.
When there are too many clouds for the sun to shine.
On such days, us wallflowers seem to thrive.
