I looked up at the sky

I looked up at the sky

It was empty

Blue in all directions

With nothing of Wordsworth to see

Even vapour trails

Have dispersed thanks to covid

No clouds to break the monotony

A predictability of weather

No uncertainty with which to ponder

The appropriateness of one's dress

A coat, a hat, wet weather shoes

Or an umbrella

Day-wear decisions taken

Before breakfast has even been made

When was the last time

I wore a scarf

Struggled to pull on a sweater

Over a shirt

With a buttoned-up collar

Wore a jacket

Fastened a tie

Polished brogues

Broken a credit card

Scraping ice from a windscreen

It is not an insult

To live in interesting times

It is possible to crave

The excitement of rain

The dash from a car

The splash from a spatter

Of dirty water right up your back

On a bicycle ride

Without mudguards

Well maybe not that

But a depth of thought

Goes into the meaning

Of a body of clouds

Rolling over the hills

Wondering whether

To unburden

Or to carry unhurriedly on

Drifting through

The wider void of space

Filling it up

With the prospect of weather

As an alternative

To meteorological consistency

The complexity of event planning

Even in midsummer

When pink blossom blows

Like confetti

Some people are just so hard to please

When a lack of perfection

Is a cause for celebration

Isobars

A topic of intelligent

Conversation

When a raindrop is perceived

As a wonder of nature

And a snowflake

Is more than a miracle.