Bitter Skies Blooming

I feel the haze
shades of purple and blue bruises 
hanging in the horizontal mist

I taste it in the air
sometimes more flavorful, with sunset or rain
sometimes just a hint of bitter herb 
when memory gets overtaken with daily tedium

But always on my tongue 
tainting everything else  
gracing my mouth 

It’s another season owning me until the next
March haze 
becomes a cloud
then a thunderhead
giving way to the eye of the storm

Evil eye
makes you think the bruising
is healing, fading
no, it just wanes
enough to regain strength  
all consuming
black and grey
wind tearing off the roof
rain once again soaking everything that  
spent the last year drying out

Finally
as April gives way to May
the fog melts
And just like that
the sky is full of spring again