an ode to the day

here,
it is a mist
an overpowering gray blanket
now a drizzle
now a flood
uncountable numbers just falling

falling

down to the tips of my toes where they gather
in muddy puddles with ripples
running away from my feet
oil slicks the only variation in hue

incessantly boring

There are no rainbows
and light flees from this weather
unlike the downpours of my childhood
that would sneak up
unforeseen
and drench a body completely

afterwards, as if to apologize
the sun would fly out
and dissipate the clouds so quickly
that steam would rise off of your clothes

joyfully,
we would jump in the miniature lakes left behind
splashing with our bare feet
(who needs shoes?)
the mud splattering our legs
with strange designs

that, my dear friends,
is what it should be

but here,
the gloom permeates my emotions.