Friday, January 23, 2015

Grey





Greyness seeps from winter sky in rivulets
that slide off the rooftops, down the windowpane,
puddle in the sodden fields,
become small fast-moving creeks 
in the roadside ditches. 

The landscape is fog-shrouded, opaque,
a study in grisaille.*
Silvery sleek shapes are slipping in and out
at the edge of the forest,
elusive as  love among the lonely-hearted:             
wet winter wolves  among the misty trees.



Clouds hang wetly
half-way down the mountain,
as if they have forgotten how to climb.
Grey landscape, grey skies, grey world.
I'd walk underneath those dripping trees,
turn my face up to the sky,
but you're not here.


*grisaille - a painting executed entirely in grey scale values.

11 comments:

  1. ". . .elusive as love among the lonely-hearted:
    wet winter wolves among the misty trees."

    Walk iwith the grey anyway, walk with his memory. Sweet!

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  2. I definitely remember several days where I was seeing everything in grisaille. The weather has profound effects on the human emotions for sure.

    Bu the way Sherry, you've got a floating comma hanging out by its lonesome next to the line "elusive as love among the lonely-hearted."

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  3. The ending is so very sad, Sherry. When we look and don't see, it is a gray day indeed.

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  4. Those grey days when we need the absent ones the most we feel the loneliest - wonderful melancholy Sherry :-)

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  5. we have some of those grey heavy clouds....have been the last couple days...we got sleet yesterday eve but it is rain now...on and off...

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  6. And it is especially grey here as well, with rain and fog and 14 degrees C at 2 p.m. But the weather will surely look up tomorrow, or the day after ...

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  7. It's winter here, and it's raining ... the skies are cloudy, grey for sure :-)

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  8. Why does grey feel so much heavier than any other hue? And why does it cut such a wide path between black and white? Thoughtful and evocative piece, Sherry...

    Elizabeth

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