The sky wore linen today
creased with quits folds of dusk,
A breeze passed by, not hurried,
just tracing patterns in the dust.
Leaves whispered secrets to the ground '
soft as footsteps not meant to stay.
Even the sun seemed undecided,
lingering in shades of maybe gray.
Time stretched hours with silver thread,
each moment a muted embroidery.
No thunder, no tears-just weather
that hums in minor key.
Don't Stop ,Check next one!