In how many ways
can Nature say bland?
How many greys
in March’s wasteland?
Thus the creek queried
churning leaden and duller
in sighs winter-wearied
“My kingdom for some color!”
With apologies to Shakespeare.
Yes, dear reader, this IS a color shot. Taken yesterday. Alas.
Now has the grey come
and the year
heavy-lidded
drowses.
Crying of want
a solitary bird
spreads black wings
over silent houses.
Silver-grey ribbon
entwined with green lace
Sabbath finery
sabbatical space.
With more thanks to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.
Winter grey
Cassius-lean, persistent
racks the eye
hollows the heart.
Spring peridot
damp, plump, insistent
declares a lush Heigh!
in gladsome
Puckish
impart.
Oddments 