Gray rain has worn the whiteness of the sill. <br />Clean panes shine decently against the chill. <br />The afternoon follows its shadow in. <br />No one will tell tomorrow it has been. <br /> <br />Good-bye to chicory and Queen Anne's lace. <br />You come a slash of last sun on your face. <br />Your clothes already blued by hungry dusk, <br />Diminishing the dream force to its husk. <br /> <br />Who pays the flower's fare into yesterday? <br />'No one. They just belong like us you say.' <br />How strange a patch of rain that is so small <br />Could cover the diminsions of us all.<br /><br />Sandra Fowler<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/diminishing/
