On a Gloomy Spring Day

On a Gloomy Spring Day

It was a gray day –
gray sky, gray dreams.
Rolling fog came pushing
it’s way across the ground
masquerading as a goblin,
and I looked for a safe
place, a hidey hole.
Hope hung limply,
like a worn out chemise,
until a small trumpeter
with a black cap chirped
notes of promise into the air.