I suppose it's strange
that a splash could be
refreshing, rain annoying. And
depending where I am,
the sun could feel so good,
or scrutinizing. A breeze
too cold would be wind,
too warm a nuisance. Sitting
could be the most relaxing
thing, or the epitome of
boredom. I suppose it's strange
that time could move slow, so
stealthily. And depending who
is here, company could be
welcome, or unwanted. A
laughter too high would be
cheerful, too low mischievous.
Reading could be the most
engaging thing, or the epitome
of solitude. I suppose it's
strange that a cloud could
be so present, often inconsistent.
And depending how it feels, its
presence could be welcome, or
very welcome. A noise too loud
would be frightening, too quiet
mysterious. Texting could be the
most social thing, or the epitome
of loneliness.