Watching the skies
has been my favorite pastime,
From early dawn
to the late half past nine.
Clouds, changing colors and
tracing varied contours with a poise
Putting me in a light trance;
like a dreamer, I always close my eyes.
But, today the storm clouds gathered;
and, no contour they could trace
Dyed the sky, blackish-blue;
they shouted, screamed and lost their grace
And, I slaughtered my dreams
with the cantankerous clamour,
kept the parts in my clandestine closet;
glad, only I can hear their yammer…