Where rainy skies surround the sun in gray;
The air is heavy with electric bliss,
Obscuring all the normal signs of day;
The drops that don't quite fall congeal around
Whatever creatures dare to stir outside;
They never even seem to reach the ground,
As if to hover was a point of pride;
Somehow the breath is crisper, less oppressed
In atmospheres that do not touch the sun;
It energizes everything with zest
To see the world picked out in shades of dun.
Though everyone adores a sky of blue
I much prefer a cloudy rendezvous.
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