A thick gray blanket
Frayed at the edge
From too many washings
Or too much use.
Hard use.
It used to be white, once
Many years ago.
A beautiful, warm
White blanket.
Now it hangs heavy over the city
Sooty, and worn
Full of the threat of rain.
Who cares.
Drizzle on, gray cloud.
Let it rain
Hard and savage.
I've got a raincoat.
Periodic Reflections on the meaning of life from one who is, statistically, halfway through it. Maybe more...
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