The clouds are loitering

The clouds are loitering
Their watchful gaze mocking,
Sheets start to twist
The fabric rocking.

Winds create crinkles
In fabric meant to dry,
I press my face to the cold window
And look up to the sky.

The heaven opens
A haze of droplets creating waves,
I run through the garden
Grabbing handfuls of fabric I wish to save.

Tenterhooks

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