Always a gray sky
Filled with something
That'll stay there -
Rain or snow -
Could be thunder
It won't share.
Whatever
Would come cursed,
Pain or joy not to know.
Though when it
Empties
Even barren hearts
Sometime see beauty
In soft snow flakes
Masking dull landscapes;
Springtime downpours
Clean
Staleness from air
For hours,
Making amends for trouble.
That release
Could connect us.