The clouds are dark right now

The leaves murmuring
I'm sitting.
It is a moment I am trying to capture.

I can never remember
The sensations I live through
They come to me
in secret.
Reducing me to a nose
A finger.
An Iris.

I read a poem about old age
And feel pain in my fingers.
I stare at a tree to feel young
But they still hurt,
And make those little clicking sounds
As if angry at me.

Outside the clouds are venting
I feel like venting too,
But I can't spit as much.
So I sit and stare,
.And rain inside