From my window I can see the bluish-grey sky pervading my view.
Today rain has fallen, yet the air is damp with humid warmth.
Summer attempts to squeeze through into life,
but is stuck, it seems, in some remnants of the dreariness thought left behind
By time, and chance.
In between two worlds I sit, half alone, half together.
A purring white cat, now old, attempts to gain my lap, but never makes the jump.
I marvel at how all seems so motionless, having seen such growth as the days have become longer.
Tomorrow the grass will push itself taller once more,
And all will move unerringly into a new season again.