Gray sky

Oh spring, you fickle tease, where are you now that I'm sitting watching the ball games? My fingers are so cold, I can barely type. The robins have been replaced by one hawk, circling up in a sky the color of a thin layer of ash left behind after a cookout.

I have to sing tomorrow at church; I really hope I don't sound like I have a code in my node.
Carly(via Blackberry)