This is an area of weakness. I blame my news writing background and a tendency to skip over long descriptive passages when I read (I know...that is bad). I rarely use similes and metaphors or figurative language.
I will not talk about the weather.
Do not ask me why I am cocooned in woolly sweaters.
I refuse to reference the numbing chill
That follows like a stalking portable refrigerator.
I will not acknowledge the persistent patter of rain
That is like a nozzle set to infinity
Swiveling to a steady trickle
And back from a loud rush.
You shall not hear comments from me
About the eternal gray that
Encases and bleakens the world.
Shades of elephant, concrete and dull books.
I will refrain from making dramatic comparisons,
Even though the rain is, indeed,
A blues musician riffing off
Endless variations of forlorn gray.