The bay is subsumed
By almost thunderstorm
Heather and slate
The sun shines on the pale city
The city shines white
Across the bay
And the ferryboats
Bright dots
Disappear in the devouring rain
Soft from where I stand
But there are spots of light
That play on the hills
And the water
And the land enfolds the bay
Nestling the city on either side
It is beautiful as if from above
And a plane crosses the sky
The churning clouds, white and blue
And vanishes behind the gray