The day is drab,

The day is drab,

Wet with rain

Even as

The deck seems to float

In a shimmer of heat

Held earthbound

By a cowl

Of deeply dark cloud

The expanse

Unsettling

Without a crow to craw

The world is mute.

I am lost

Drifting in and out of time

A witness to the fall.

Electric wires spider

Out from wooden poles

Designated destinations

Sought by design

Man-made connectivity.

Undercover of darkness

When the world sleeps

A possum is a tightrope walker

Although less elegantly displayed

With no acrobatic dismount

It is deftly assured

Moving without a counterbalance

Progress is undertaken

With less ceremony

Or the need for a tutu.

Nevertheless,

There is an inevitability

About its completion.

Grace in the wild

Is less a display of prowess

For its own sake

Rather it is

An innate response

A gesture of defiance

The cocky strut of a suitor

The practicality of survival.

Dry weather birds shelter from the storm

As do I

Although I am moved

To appreciate the process,

The determination of rain

To leave its mark

And the way that

Over time

Wildlife and landscape

Bend

To the intensity of its fall.