The sky is grey today with streaks of blue

Swirling northern skies reflect sombre horizons;

Behind my back cumulus clouds mass

Over the hills, conspiring in their usual

Ragged silence. In front of me are drear

Trees laid bare, a mist of water's in the air.

Caught cough, cough, coughing in the peasoupers

Of the past, I pull my scarf tighter and focus keenly

On the patterns of infinitude, half-perceived

And half-created, imposed upon me by these

Far pavilions mingling in this over-active mind

Of mine. And all the time, the drag of

Discontent whispers in mine inner-ear:

'Not here, nor there, nor anywhere!'