out of the gray

Vibrant verdancy
follows fast on the heels
of late vernal torrents

May showers, this year

and many preceding
so, so gray

In general, I’d say
I like living in the gray

But that’s a metaphor
for philosophy
certainly sexuality

The Inner Life


give me this morning
spring fully sprung
the sky, indigo giving to violet
as the sun nears the horizon
the greening and bluing of the day
becoming apparent
promise of a day vivid
with the color of hope
birds sing to welcome someone

give me the midsummer’s night
those sultry breezes
remnants of a day
refusing to give up its heat
covers kicked off, fan on high
whatever insects those are that click
clatter and buzz through the night
shouldn’t be peaceful sounds
but they are, so I sleep

give me Indian Summer
if we’re still allowed to call it that
summer refusing to sleep
an energetic child at bedtime
asking for just. one. more.
these are precious days borrowed
from what comes next
pretending we’re closer to solstice
than equinox

all will be well, just a while longer

out of the gray.

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