Low dust clouds bristled

Low dust clouds bristled
   In the sky but I did not see;
A lone grackle whistled
   A warning I did not perceive.

The world would not cease turning
   In its cruel mockery.
I sat upon a rock, faltering –
   Because of things that wouldn’t be.

Only distraction can persuade –
   Only sleep can steal
Such sadness that pervades
   And hot tears that swell

But hotter yet came a wind
   That brushed my fingers
As would one consoling
   And dried my tears.