dark afternoon; clouds rolling in
the tang of rain through open windows
breeze drifts, cold to the bone
heavy eyelids
the body crawls into bed
rain hammers the shingles
at quarter to four
just a cat nap
an essay due,
laundry in the basket,
pasta waiting to boil,
Eventually.
YOU ARE READING
Eventually
PoetryYou know those funks you get into where you find yourself unable to get out of bed and you become the human embodiment of a rainy day?
