Elucidating Questions

Some days the world bores

The world bores

As we bore holes in her

The fountain is not enchanting

The light through the trees is not magnificent

The pillowed clouds floating past are just a reminder

It hasn’t rained

Then the next day or the day after that

The colour returns to the world

In fact

The days that bore are better spent quiet

Not spewing vile boredom at the things seen

Boring

They must not know

They must not know

And do not whisper

To Fortuna or The Fates

The day is boring

Lest they decide to

Help

You cannot know what comes up next

The day is boring

But think not lest the spirits hear you

And whispering back

They intervene

A boring day

A day inbetween