Makers Gray

Purposeful the plow beating sidewalks clean

Of plush, the white heralding away

There, I, autographed cement

Hushed - come caroling into day

Singing for the Makers bent

Touch.

Singing the Persons tandem-hushed

Along the curbs of gray.

Majesty enough sit the golden rays

Upon my Name not slushed

Though long do I by singing sound

From songs my Maker touched

Then plummet come that white-binding grave

To blanket my Name now hushed

And I, mute, of melody marred

Entombed then passive sulk

When purposeful the plow beating sidewalks clean

This refrain that heralds plush away

Comes whistling the Plowman earnestly sings

My song for Makers Gray.