Ode to a Cloudy Day
The day of the sun has passed
The warmth has become yesterday's joy.
As the stormy clouds slowly make their way across the sky,
A gray yet not grievous cloud passes over my spirit.
As the waves tumble onto the white sand,
Undulations of melancholy wash over me.
All is still.
In the distance a beach millionaire turns on a radio.
The foreign sound cuts into the stillness like a knife.
My anger over the darkness has passed.
The wild, raucous spirit that follows the sun
Becomes a strange, gentle peace in the clouds.
I'm alone, but the loneliness has passed.
It's time to think, ponder, and reflect.
Maybe it isn't so bad after all.
-Angela Becerra