When the weather is the day unwound

Meaning to be energy
I wait watching the gray sky diffuse
un-fused struggling to light the day
the bushes still concealed in leaves
are all brandishing Beckett
in the wind tauntingly rainless
Given into this aging armchair
the Panderbox caterwauling to the windows
I may as well be a seagull
buffeted by the air-currents
churning into an Escher staircase