Today the Sky

Today the sky
Is the kind of cloudy
So indiscriminately bright
A sheet of white light
Only just hindered by shades
In very subtle differentiation

Though for the most part
Resembling a screen
Over top of which
One could hang an x-ray of the day
Diagnose the break
And suggest a method of treatment
If one were trained for such observation

The kind of sky that weighs down
While still being obnoxiously out of touch

A sky so juxtaposed
With anything that could possibly happen
On this particular day of the week
That of course it's Sunday
And yet
If it were any other day
Would you even notice the sky?

I woke up enough last night
To have seen all the shades of morning
To capture a fair preview
Of the weather's presentation
From safe behind weary window glass

Yet the waking I remember
Neck and throat sore from yesterdays
Is the one that took me by surprise
Your voice on the other line
As we spoke of tomorrows
With skies of their own, I assume

But today the sky sat there
Staring at me
Waiting for me
Knowing it mocked me
Contradicting itself
Mimicking the heaviness of my head
The weight of the week

"It's not a clean break,"
Said the doctor
"It will have to be set."

Of course it will,
I thought,
Of course.