Grab your masks, the weatherman said.
Hide your glances and your curiosity
behind damask skins on metal skeletons
with faux wood handles. Count the drumbeat
as it taps its nonchalant tune in a steady gray ensemble.
The passing clouds have the controls,
and they’ve dumped the treble down low.
The way you hold the tune speaks volumes,
but we’ll never see the melody from under here.