The Unsunny Road

 

A humming machine

Sits in my living room

Humming me awake. 

A promise of rain
Filters through the morning sun.
Really? Who wants it?

Voices in the woods!
Or is it a deep bass bird?
Or my stomach?

A trio of goats
Hearing something up above
Turn away from me.
 

The road becomes mute--
Layered clouds obscure the sun
And the bugs are back.

Pressed leaf or snow flake
Lying flat white on the road?
(Ah yes, it's bird shit).

Graveyard of flowers?
Dandelions prepare flight
To return again.

The unsunny road
Gray, spread out with unshadows,
Unsparkles today.