a light drizzle
from a dim grey sky
and the reminiscently
efferent light,
echos from years
now extinct,
exhausted.
luminescing from
a time a bit
more jubilant.

words swell
with inadequacy.

allow for it
to happen.
the whole world is
drenched in memories
and rain.
for these days are
our training
grounds.

all of this,
soft with sorrow.

it is a rather
and rare thing of
beauty.
and that flickering
hum is enough
to kill.