I seldom write a poem on sunny days. Gray skies are best - a little overcast Is what I need to rise enough to praise - To resurrect the future and the past. The sun comes out, and I am onto prose: To laughter's fiction or to thought's plain food. Sunshine's the best atmosphere for those. But poetry - it needs a nebulous mood, A feeling that there's something left unsaid Hanging in the mist, inviting you To rise beyond the language of the head To something that's intrinsically true. I seldom write a poem on sunny days. I need the clouds to rise enough to praise.