They’ll find me, they always do.
They’ll hunker down above my house and wait,
seams ready to burst. Then they’ll pour
with all their might, they’ll pour.
dark clouds linger
over my world. Swollen,
eager to erupt in a flood of gray.
I’m armed; umbrella in hand,
leaks plugged, windows shut.
But it’s all for naught.
I’ll get splattered nonetheless.
Although I’m protected,
the splashes will seek me out,
taint me with their melancholy,
color me shades of blue.