I woke up and it was gray.
Not the normal sky,
with varying shades and hues,
grays and blues.
Solid dark gray.
An iron gray curtain
dropped outside.
Even buildings across the street
were invisible and hidden.
No explanation –
not raining,
past dawn.
Just unending flat gray.
This started out as a paragraph, but then I entered the line breaks and made it a poem. It’s better this way, I think. I couldn’t make it rhyme.
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The Future of Orion
3 days ago
6 comments:
I wake up here
and sometimes there is fog
or my car is all wet
and covered in dew
but mostly every day
by noon or so
the weather is mostly the same
with subtle differences
like the Santa Ana's
which make my throat dry
or a nice sea breeze
which does not
It's OK
but I miss the fall
You should go here
and have a muffin
and sit in the park
and watch the leaves fall
You are awesome David. MMMM muffins.
This poemetry of yours, it pleases us.
We are amused.
For some reason it makes us think of "The Gates." We do not know why.
We think rhyming is quaint and out-dated. We think it was getting old when Shakespeare was doing it.
TS
laura-LOL.
Des-did the grey make you feel empty?
gr - it made feel alone, even though there were both a cat and a boy in my bed. I guess a little empty too.
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