Ah yes, I stopped asking and annoying the sun; "what are his summer plans?" Rains just started rolling, city thunders are singing; "what about his homecoming?" I can't even ask about his day without subtly saying; "are you almost on your way?!?" so much for silent praying. Ah but I don't care now what he does or where he goes, the clouds are grey and cold, so is my little nose. Storms are humming, pacific sun is in hiding, but teasing; "okay, but I am not the one hiding something..."
Poem powered and fueled by Pacific Sun Hard Iced Tea. Drink moderately.