Gray in the Clouds

 

The clouds, I thought were whiter

As the morning dawn begins to flower

When the sunlight is anew

Ripe for a new day, for a new dream

Dreams fallen like dew drops to the

perfect burgandy ground

passing through the grass, the wet lowly leaves, the insects, and the trees

like honey swirls in the

teapot

falling slowly to the bottom

where it lays still in

finality

 

The clouds gray, with a tad blush of

darkness, today it seems too much to touch

It comes to us, it covers us,

you and I in our

sleep

 

See there,

Behind the mask of snowy cotton breath

There is a world of leavening gray beneath the

crest

It seeps out in rain and falls down by our

bedside.