Gray-Blue

There's a kind of morning that makes you want to crawl back

into your warm, cozy bed, and refuse to face the day

that begins with a gray-blue sky and the promise of rain.

When the gray-blue sky comes you just want to lie cozy and watch

the rain go: down

                          down

                                     down, drip drop, drip drop

tip-tap, tip-tap-tapping on the window like an old friend, asking to come in

while you watch the trees dancer, wishing they, like you

could simply sit cozy in bed and watch.

But they sway, arms gracefully twirling, like dancers

before your throne, like a monarch, watching their performance

and marveling at the beauty of the gray blue day.