The deep lavenders and blues
Of the clouds
Do share in my music
Composed about this bench that I sit upon
All without applause.
Yet the applause comes
The grey blanket so unfurls
Shaking deep into the grooves and
Lands in staggering beats
Of a song I no longer play.
Still a’fixed to the bench,
I am swept into the contagious beating
My soul overdue and now overflows
Washed out of all stains.
And so it dances on and on
Deeply relieved of its weight
The clouds giving back to the lacking
Washed dry out of fear, I re-tune my piece
Washed clear, I ask again for rain
And the stormy clouds do depart.