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Heavy Boots
I’m wearing my blue hat and it is raining
The sticky spring air penetrates through the walls of my house
My books are sighing with exhaustion, their spines cracked, words blurred in pools of water
The eyes on my sock monkey used to look real
Now they are sewn in and seem thoughtless
Where is something made to order, and only a dollar?
It is raining
I’m wearing my stripped scarf and it is raining
Flowers that perk up in the spring feel they belong in my world
They are mistaken, but they still try
Only trees that lose their leaves in the fall have a place in my mind
That is the only thing I can take
When can I say enough, and give up?
It is raining
I’m wearing my heavy boots and it is raining
There are stacks and stacks
My book needs revising
The piano downstairs in only a prop
Nothing more
It is raining
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