On days when rain
Makes minds nostalgic,
And hearts examine
The limits of our patience
When children frown,
Scream strapped in strollers
And all our rubber boots
Are broken
We rush in traffic,
Pretend to not dream
Of summer days and beaches,
Walk on determined with a purpose.
I see the sunrise
Break loose
On a faraway horizon
In a distant magical galactic.
Mountains, deserts and dust
Planets of colorful haze
Magnetic moon phases
And purple craters that burst.
So winter is coming.
It’s full of potential.
My dreams bathe in the storms.
Rubber boots aren’t essential.
donika emille 