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.
Lovely, Sherry.
ReplyDelete". . .elusive as love among the lonely-hearted:
ReplyDeletewet winter wolves among the misty trees."
Walk iwith the grey anyway, walk with his memory. Sweet!
I definitely remember several days where I was seeing everything in grisaille. The weather has profound effects on the human emotions for sure.
ReplyDeleteBu 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."
Typo: By the way...
DeleteThe ending is so very sad, Sherry. When we look and don't see, it is a gray day indeed.
ReplyDeleteThose grey days when we need the absent ones the most we feel the loneliest - wonderful melancholy Sherry :-)
ReplyDeletewe 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...
ReplyDeleteAnd 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 ...
ReplyDeleteIt's winter here, and it's raining ... the skies are cloudy, grey for sure :-)
ReplyDeleteWhy 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...
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
palpable longing ~
ReplyDelete