The sky churned, pitch to gray,
the sun slid slowly over the bay.
A boy slipped out of his pajamas and into the day,
crunching the gravel path where a sleek silver car awaits.
"What do you want?" he wanted to scream,
driving out over the road of the rainy day gleam.
He passes the mailbox, the bridge, the highway,
All while a woman's voice on the phone begs for him to stay.
"It's dangerous, and you'll get cold," she frets.
He retorts, "Don't worry mom, I'll only get wet."
And that morning, as the boy takes flight,
tears spill over the cliff's edge and he laughs in delight.