no singing

it won't stop
raining, each
day is the same.
a grey drizzle,
a downpour, a
deluge. the creek
runs high,
the trees sag
and fall under
their own weight.
lightning creases
the sky
as the thunder
rolls. everything
is wet and full
of mildew and mold.
it's a world
of open umbrellas,
of raincoats
and boots, of
mud. there is no
singing in this
continual rain.
no fools are out
there dancing.