Thursday, December 27, 2012

Unsunny Sunday


It’s a miserable day.
Perfect for a walk.
Nothing takes away the memory
Of misery
Than a miserable stalk
Down a rainy trail

It’s a miserable morn,
Drear and cold damp.
I’ll let the wind and drizzle
Wash my tears
Down the wrinkled ramp
Of my aging face.

It’s a miserable path.
Wet and gritty.
Can you imagine a better clime
To write rhyme
bemoaning self pity
From my groaning soul?

It’s an misnomered day.
Sunday afternoon
Washing down the gutter of my psyche
And cluttering
Like litter and doom
The drainpipe of my life.

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