Steady rain, early morning.
I am grey and the clouds
are flesh colored.

Mocking me, they dance
beyond fingertips seeking.
I touch
droplets of my dreams
and watch them
soaked in by the grass.

Laughing, Silver
birch sway
to a rhythm my hips
ache to feel again.

It is a sad story, I put down
my pen and paper
take off my shoes
and dance alone
in tear soaked grass.