Poetry: Affection

The clouds come loiter together again,
a sapphire blue veiled so discreet,
now drained to sustain the coming rain.

Shelter not in front,
only dusk plains ahead.
Behind, shimmering,
waves open yawning
with inescapable safety
but numb.

The horizon then;
tumbling in lachrymose,
or rumbling timidly.
Peaking or falling;

I can’t tell yet.