Alone with my thoughts of paper.
The meter of life slows and lends itself to elucidation.
-h. shepherd
grey
sometimes i feel mottled grey
flecked with indecision, pain, and loneliness
these feel weighty when i try to reach upward
so, i burrow inward
the grey entangles in the gloaming melancholy
apathetic tears saturate and pull me in further
encircling shriveled wings about me- i slip downward and sleep
unfettered from consciousness; dreams sooth and caress
gift of Morpheus
Roused in the grey half light, imbued with memories of sleep and perspective
I reach upward and fly, mottled grey to strengthen these delicate growing wings
-h. shepherd
