I wake up to the sound
Of the wind howling
And the drumming of the rain
And I think of Elmore James playing
“The Sky is Crying”
A warm cup of coffee in my hand,
I find the song and sit,
Listening to the guitar and the rain and the wind.
These are the slow blues days,
These are the Murakami days,
These are the warm coffee, cold-wind days.
Play me the crying skies, play me the wind beginning to howl,
Play me a sad song for the dreadful wind and rain
And I will listen.