Alone at a Cliff Cottage

The storm over
Fog
blurs the boundary
between the ocean and the sky
and paints them
in a huge brush
of mono-color.
Beads of rain
hang still on the titanic window
of the house
separating my gaze
and the colorful flowers
now drooping wet.
The forever grounded boat
greedily holds fast
pockets of rain
caught on its body.
Its paddle
lies crippled
beside a broken bough.