I look out my window
at dark, rolling clouds
flooding rain
and angry flashes of light

so very different than yesterday
when the sun was bright
and warm
the scent of wildflowers
filled the air
with the occasional drone of a honey bee
or a glimpse of the tissue-soft wings
of a butterfly as it passes

on a sunny day I could, for the moment, ignore the stench of my world

the grass is a soft bed
of richest aroma
one blade
carefully and properly held
between two thumbs
will form a reed horn
blowing across it brings the honking sound
of a very sick goose
and catapults me into giggles, and joyful laughter

on a sunny day I could, for the moment, forget the evil that was at home

I could run thru these fields forever
my arms spread
fingertips lightly brushing the top of plants as I pass
bringing the illusion of me skimming the surface of this grand sea of colors
trailing the bee
and butterfly

on a sunny day I could, for the moment, be a child again
and not an oaf
stupid fool
or unwanted accident

and even now
after the passing of too many dark nights
I can remember the warmth
the infrequent sounds and smells
of complete abandon
in the world of my childhood

and shed a tear in memory
of a sunny day