Summer in England

I think we all wake up into days we do not wish to greet.


Today I woke to the rain, and the cold and the darkness of winter.


The rain battering against my window, defiantly, and the cold - just enough to make me uncomfortable. The darkness engulfed except for the slight reflection on my mirror from a distant halo of light, a hope? no, we have none. (My pessimism is in a half lie.) It is just my window from something beyond what I could see. I wasn't sure what was outside. I wasn't sure what would greet me.


Hello winter's morning,
Oh how I love thee.
I heard ye whispering in the night,
And alas I awoke!
To see your happy heart.


I do love the rain. The sound. I think. That must be it.


This morning though, was tainted by the night before. I awoke with the thoughts that had stalked me into sleep. Over and over they whisper. Threatening my day. Threatening to kill any life I was to find.


I did not want to wake. I did not want to greet the day.


I wished to fall back asleep, not a gentle sleep (it never is), but just any sleep at all, a sleep long enough so that everyone will forget, and I, join too the followers of Lethe.



I do not know what days you see, I do not think you understand mine.


No, we do not have today. We have not a single day.