The fragrant pastel flowers
of the trees in bloom
seemed muted
by the endless grey sky.

The frequently dreary
daily news
seemed bleaker than usual
and no one
except the old Italian
grandmother
seemed to know
it was Ascension Day.

The traffic was slow and heavy
on account of the rain
and the drivers
who looked up
at the billboards
urging them to buy
something
they didn’t really need
couldn’t see
the risen Lord.

Even those who did pause
knew they had to wait
for Pentecost.