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.