i took up some foreign folds
pressed betwixt once hard covers
softened by so many squeezing hands
and waxy leaves crumpled
by all of time's other fingers
and smokily smudged by her
thousands of unique fingerprints
they count the years like raindrops
among the ones collecting outside
sparse and shy but heavy
in the weight upon unlikely impact
it was too gray to wear blue
not one so vibrant as that
so i donned some smokey gray stockings
and black fur, leather and cotton
wrapping up instead
with a glowing pink silk
and soft, embroidered flowers
to respect the gloom and not decay
beneath its weary tears for yesterday
i tired of my stumbling stitches
and of my latest graphite depiction
and subsequently i outlined
the divine sight before me
a midweek holiday
just three days following
one of similar nature
but of independent impression
this figure was my fingerprint
upon that moment in time
it's impact a chilling gasp
rolling off crisp corduroy
a gracious contribution
to the gray puddles of tomorrow
