A day without sunshine,
only clouds,
and muted light from gray cloud skies,
until this hour,
when water is released
like a furiously falling waterfall.
I want to lay in the dark
listening,
lulled to sleep by the lullaby,
but my clothes are drying
and need hung tonight
or the wrinkles will set for eternity,
so I sit at my desk
grade some papers,
and write this poem,
to the falling rain.
cfblack 01-28-18
Doctor Grandma 