evening

I almost can't remember the way the sky looked this morning.
At five forty five,
its grey an dull,almost washed out;
like a snowman after hrs of rain.
I barely noticed the changes though im certain they occured.
The heavens couldn't have looked this exhausted while hosting the morning sun.

The world is now covered with a layer of tired static.
All rubbing eachother the wrong way.
Even the breeze rustling the falling leaves- seems harsh,
though i doubt that it means any harm.

But in this hazy hour judging the wind is alright.

I can  barely see out the window.I think the glass has steamed up,
or maybe its just the drooping of my eyelids
covering any possible focus.

And for a second the silence is still;
almost eerily so
like it too, has lost its' grasp of the air.
I dont mind.
It gives me reason to wonder when the world went its way.
And when day has passed me bye...