Above Me Only Skies

Today is the day where darkness reveals itself. The black blanket that covers the sky, oh dear sun, gone once again. The scurrying squirrels cultivate the bounty for the coming winter. The skies are heavy, and the rain sits with a fastened waist. I ponder, one finger above the brow. I study the lines of Frost's medicinal potency. Dissecting words, chewing their intimate meaning. But all roads have been marked, worn down to the bone, a scraping with no commission. I look above me, and the sky's face is blemished by the engorged, pregnant clouds. I sit and wait for one drop to indent the coming of change. My eyes are fixed, and the city sounds cry out a celebratory cacophony.