Ben von Jagow

I like the sun in the morning
the patter of rain before bed
and sugared flakes of snow
as they drift past the porch lamp.
I like a breeze when it’s hot
clear skies when it’s not,
and a dark, dour day
should I start to feel ill.
I like storms, thunder, blustery winds
my warm forehead pressed
against a cold window pane.
I like change,
but most of all, I like the days uncertain
where clouds jockey the sky for space
disclosing nothing if not perspective,
where curtains draw shivers
and every break bears warmth
from a momentarily forgotten sun.