The day, soft gray,
with clouds a’play,
wouldn’t let down her rainy gown.

The wait, long gray,
led thoughts astray,
while teasing eyes flitted by like flies.

The noon, blue-gray,
winked and passed away,
racing clouds flocked, no longer blocked.

Mid-day, dark gray,
mind and eyes rain-flayed,
thunder-drops make heartbeat – stop.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 10/21/04