no champion

she is trying to make her way
she likes the gray
when it all seems to run together
so she can give it her own definition

right before the rain comes
she tips her head back
to get a clearer view
of ambiguity

in living, there is seldom
a picture more convoluted
than that of the clouds
at war with the sun

each trying to conquer
the other in the battle and
God cries over their discord
hoping the rain will cool them off

she tips her head back
as far as it will go
so she can drink in God's tears
and oil her leathered soul before she cracks

and she watches the clouds
at bay with the sun
and wonders why either
thinks they will ever win...