Cloudy whisps of pink, grey and white
too dark for day, too mellow for night.
Blocking out sun, filtering in light
at this hour, we scurry with fright...
Back into the suburb, the shtetl, the barrio...
Driving at 50, ears blasting radio
Or grating against concrete, gunning to fight...
push and shove human pillars...pedestrian lights
The day is over.
What's done is done.
Atoms fall proportionate to mass.
And clouds and people...drift.