How peculiar,

Those clouds

They bring about

A simple kind of frown

But I forget, out and about

Bringing home onions and cloves

I wonder,

That taste in the air

The ache in my bones

It's so clear really

By look of the deli clerk

A tired smear

Bored by her work

It was that late night after all.

But these emotions speak unsure

Consequences unknown

Then, the revelation I find

I left my umbrella at home.