The sun is a recluse today
exhausted from yesterday’s mirth,
Grey blankets a rain-skewed world
as headlights appear
through green wet treetops.
Windows shut tight
shades raised, not flapping
coffee brews and I wait,
staring through drips.
shine their night-time faces,
as umbrellas bob through a labyrinth
of puddles on cement.
Tired eyes close, barely awake
I sense the city on a rainy morn.
Coffee gurgles, cars slosh through streets
and a wet flag clangs metal grommets
on its cold steel pole.