The clouds are
lined up like tombstones
in a dull grey sky,
in some other time
I think they'd be soldiers
on the front line.

spots of rain
sounds like rife shots
on the corrugated tin roof.

The proof lies and sometimes
the truth hurts.
and now
pan bottom black,
the storm has arrived and
there's no going back
not even to the dull grey,

another day
dissolves.