Precipitating

Nothing ever gets
dry here
this time of year.
Rain, hail, sleet

snow, mist, you name it.
The sky is crying
all the time. Indoors
it’s not much better.
We can turn on the heat

but then it is all warm
and still damp, coats and
scarves draped in
the bathroom under the heat
lamp, steaming
a bit and smelling of

wet wool and old
cigarette smoke from
the parties and bars
we went to when
the world was young
and not yet soaked in tears.

~

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