An illusory downpour is hidden in the glare
of a bright autumn sun shining in a cloudless sky.
It is make-believe. All of it.
Even so, we blissfully bask in what we imagine,
whether rain or sun, on a day we want to call today.
But wait.
It can be erased.
Not erased but unimagined and
it will disappear as quickly as it appeared.
Then, stricken by the pain of our loss, we will mourn.