Overcast, a Summary

I see it fit to give you fair warning.

In the future, however distant

There will be days, given infrequent

When the air is too cold to move

And puddles languish on the road

And the mountains have burrowed

Beneath their gray down comforters

And we will do the same

Meaning—

Forget your daily commute and stiff-backed chair

Forget my ringing phone and pressing matters

Shove the consequences beneath the pillow

Hold me close in lazy white seeping through the blinds

The air is not moving, and neither are we.