I pull the curtains back, the stage is set
And there it is again:
Familiar as milk or oranges,
The ever changing scenery
Of earth, sea, sky. Hazy
Waving glancing
Light on water and there’s
Clouds on the horizon but
They don’t symbolise
Or presage anything.
They’re just water droplets
And harmless ones, at that.
And after all,
It’s not their job to hold up signs
Nebulously telling me
About Society and
How I’m feeling,
Nor would I ask them; it’s not
That kind of relationship.
And yes, I do need a weatherman to tell
Which way the wind blows
If I’m not out in it, but want
To dry my clothes later.
And no, I’m not invoking dirty laundry.
I just
Prefer to keep my emotions
Bottled and complex,
Like good wine. So
I drink in this scene
Because it’s a view
With no point,
That’s the point.