Dewy-Gold

the sky is painted brilliant marble,
a stark white canvas, but the artist
merely leaves mottled grey streaks
where his paintbrush has been,
a weak monochrome watercolour
in which thin tendrils of sunshine
will never reach the ground,
and the air is brisk,
and the wind is stark,
and the evanescent throes of summer
are far from reach,
and the rain falls endlessly,
creating rivers where once men walked

but the rain is painted dewy-gold,
so doesn’t it feel like sunshine after all?