Dark Grey

Dark Grey

By: Ashley Clarke

Dark grey is the color of the absence of life,

A rotting corpse’s shade, the signifier of lack of blood, and breath, and hope, with emptiness this color is rife.

And when I was younger, this color was an action to me that was done,

That was meant for darkness, to quiet and to stun.

From my offender it did spew,

But I can dilute this inky hue,

Wash away the hate, and project colors anew.

And maybe in my life I have collected moments of grace,

A kindly glance from a stranger, a warming bearhug embrace,

A deep shared laugh that rattled the bricks in the very hearth of my being,

The girl in my class in that new, strange place, who included me,

Saw me when I wasn’t worth seeing.

All of these moments can be strung together like small, crystalline lights on a tree.

They are each a small brook, babbling and bursting forth,

Collecting and pooling into a mighty, yet deep and gentle sea.

This body of water, this great glittering lake,

Can serve as the painter’s cup, to rinse away the ache,

Freeing the colors trapped within,

Brilliant azure tears of empathy for a friend who found her self, yet her parents anguish she did win,

Rich amber warmth and compassion for the clerk that just lost her child,

A bright emerald walk next to the one receiving the diagnosis that they thought would be mild.

Like a muddied painter’s brush in a cup of water,

The dark grey will wash away, like a hue of any other,

Revealing the vibrant colors underneath,

The crimson, cerulean, tangerine that grey did sheath.

A generational exchange of pain,

The dulling greyness seeping in to set and stain,

Yet the collected waters will shine and transmute,

What was meant to kill, stifle, and pollute.

Dark grey has come to collect,

The unconscious oil spill that leaves in its wake all capsized and wrecked,

But this sea is different and has been formed with the energy of collected points of light,

Burgundy, indigo, and amethyst have been freed much to the next souls’ delight.

From my offender it did spew,

But I can dilute this inky hue,

Wash away the hate, and project colors anew.