Morning weather

In the morning, when the sun was new,
I lingered in its way,
The sky a sum of uncut blue
That spoke a pleasant day.

At noon a cloud of silver cotton
Loitered in the east,
Moving not so often,
Hinting rain just in the least.

In evening it was dark and pouring,
Brooding black and livid.
The sky was dressed for mourning
And the moonlight slack and timid.

So I stayed inside to watch the rain
And bitter currents rage,
While tears washed down the window pane
Affected by the grace with which the weather swiftly changed.

Photo by sharpshutterstudios.com

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