Into the Grey
Give me tones of muted stone and
Frosted whites of old dried bones.
Like somber moods of last goodbyes
are dirty windows to leaden skies.
Not flames of gold, embers aglow,
But tepid ash and sooty charcoal.
A shadowy grey draped hospital bed,
My lungs, empty of air, filled with lead.
Red eyes shrink from unwelcome light,
Favoring fog, granite, the silver of night.
Your brown eyes buttoned, I’m marooned, bereft.
That morning, all my colors left.
Now, go away, leave me be, with your sky of cerulean blues.
My soul longs for the cinder-toned, dull colorless hues.
About the Creator
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