In defense of cloudy days
by Emily Wall


There's something distrustful
about sunlight. I know I'm in the minority here--
but the way it burns our retinas, polishes
our hair, lifts the gold manes of our arms--
we must be blind.

The bus fills with a sulfur light
this morning
and a tired fat man becomes
beautiful, shining and I swear he has wings
tucked somewhere in his gym bag.
I look around and see it everywhere--
an impossible gossamer:
the driver's cheap coffee steams tendrils
that disappear smooth as a silk
scarf into the air we breathe.

It's lovely, of course, but--

maybe the return of rain will offer promises
we can keep, ground we can easily
stand on. A clear way to gauge each other.






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