Color is a sort of medicine;
when the sky is blue, we stay…but
when the sky is exhausted, turns ashy
& dull gray
we turn away.
some would call it a gray-out
those endless never-
go-away days of split-tones &
washed-out faded displays
This is how the winter’s land speaks here
and to fix the blue in place
is to look away
from the plain truth of the day, and those
sad & mousey-pale grays.
Exactly when is it we become a color
between black and white?
To the long and arduous snow:humbly you are accepted, you &
your unwavering allegiance
to non-color and gray.
You don’t take credit for the trials
you create, trials that dig deep holes
in our psyches, nor
do you care of the civilized sun
that glints black stones,
brightens our faces
and takes no prisoners, away.
The grey does not go-away,
there is no alternative than to befriend it,
take a different perspective to find the beauty
of those in-betweens!
Lovely prose & pics especially #3.
embrace the day, no matter the forecast…
Poems like this do make it a little easier to 'embrace the day.'
No matter how beautiful black and white winters are I now want a little colour, please.