The rain is checking its schedule
and the snow is thinking things over.
The icicles are tentative, and are
wondering about the price of health and dental plans.
The clouds, while perfectly willing to show up,
have forgotten to make their reservations
and the winds are are mostly annoyed
with the others and are standing in the hallway,
tapping their feet next to their bags
which are packed and have been sitting
by the door since Wednesday.
But what difference does it make? Even if
they were on their way, it wouldn't matter.
There's no room for them at the Inn.
The blue skies are still talking with
the birds, the August heat is sipping
his coffee at sidewalk cafe near Hollywood and Vine,
and wouldn't you know it, that bastard
the sun is overstaying his welcome again this year.
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