The rains began softly in the approach of twilight,
Stirring leaves to rattle
Like the hollow breaths of a pensioner dying in a hospice.
The floundering winds, lifting up stray hairs
Tickling at vulnerable skin.
Till we feel naked to the cold which grips within.
A paraphernalia of umbrellas, in all colours
Zig-zagging in a haphazard parade.
A cautious dance to avoid stepping in a puddle.
Drizzle on windows, looking out to
Grey haze, the elements as lethargic as the people,
Roaming the land to spread their monotony.
A brief interlude in the cup of tea,
The whizz of a heater and words on paper.
An essay that will not write itself;
The imminent hush that follows an exam,
As hours are whiled away by desperate nothings.
Time is broken by bare syllables,
To eat, to write, to slumber, to forget.
Some spent frames of time sandwiched between.
Barely significant and taken for granted.
Anticipating clocks will be wound back.
The craving of food to abate,
And caffeine-induced energy to sink in
As the wind outside whistles it's loneliness.
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