Grey and damp, damp and grey:
this is the pattern of today.
Though wind bark a bit,
within his kennel sits,
doesn't want to play.
It's a little colder;
we are all one day older,
when it's damp and grey.
Grey and damp, damp and grey:
how this autumn leaks away.
Names suffer change,
deeper estranged.
Little more to say.
Grow a little colder;
let the season moulder
when it's damp and grey.
Grey and damp, damp and grey.
Head-up to see the day:
weeping-willow yellowing on
yew is strong.
Be all as it may -
back to the workaday,
while it slips away
damp, damp and grey.
YOU ARE READING
Winter Trails
PoetryWinter Trails is an album of my poems, journeying through late fall when the wire of the trees begins to dominate, till the end of January. After promoting it and it soaring to three quarter million reads, Wattpad unceremoniously dumped it. Here it...
