Under the Weather

Under the weather

Above the soil

Where else could I be?

Unable to soar above

Subject to the way the sky

Indecisively swings on hinges

Like alcoholic binges.

The staccato of a door

Urgently tapped upon

When hail falls on my roof

Reminding me of what I’m beneath.

It’s okay it won’t always be that way.

– Vagabond Prophet

Thanks @josy57 for prompting me with “under the weather.”