How can anyone be sad
while sitting in nature
looking at green grass
and sky blue?
I imagine them saying

As if they have absorbed
literary tropes of sunny
days accompanying triumph
and joy while clouds
and storms signal ill fortune
or foreboding of disaster

That’s all right for literature,
but what about real life?
What about the interior
clouds that don’t disperse
with the cumulonimbus?
Tropes are useful, I grant
you, but I would caution
overuse or reliance leads
to cliche — every literary
person’s darkest nightmare,
as deep as being scoffed
out of the Serious Authors Club

Perhaps, when one’s mood
conflicts or contrasts with one’s environs,
one is forced into self-reflection —
perhaps not what one would want,
but on the other hand, may be what one needs