Rain on the roof...

Rain on the roof--
perhaps brown branches
will turn green again.

They Say...

The danger comes when 

inertia's gone-- you're alone

again, feeling too much.

8/20/14

Dreary skies shine gray.
Muggy air presses down, but a
brown dove soars up, up.

Regret, Self-Pity---

Regret, Self-Pity--
Here you are again! You turn
up, though we're not friends.