The sky held back the pour
The clouds hung down
A strange holding pattern
On this Friday evening

Shaped like people in motion
They glide along the pavements
Some in packs and some no more than one
Across the grey lined granite

Large strides and or small steps
Eclectic colours and sizes in a blur
Gentle breeze signals the shift
In weather and tone

The left to right motion
And right to left motion
Feels like a gentle sway
Lulling me in my mind's hammock

You can hear the chatter
In the background murmurs
And high pitched squeals
Hushed whispers all rolled into one

The skies are holding out
It clearly is keeping restraint
The clouds they hang down
Before they rain down on the parade.