The month’s last Saturday’s gift is gray

IMG_5402Oh for these last gray days and new moons. For Orion’s belt in the north, in the night. For our yard leaning on its side and the papery brown fronds hanging down. For the milky sun and messy watercolor blues, for spring’s tentative tracing of the dance floor with its shoes. For this day I sit looking out, looking in, feeling the same: a stirring in these limbs the color of bone and moss-matted stone, when all the world seems draped in gray. Oh how the last bit feels hardest and the time, the days, the sum of our lives slows. How hard the times between the living and the dead we wait. This Saturday I feel it leaking it out of me, a black hole on the calendar where the moon should be.



Categories: prose

Tags: , , , , , ,

9 replies

  1. and soon to emerge into the light –

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Love that line, “black hole on the calendar where the moon should be.”

    Liked by 1 person

  3. What a beaut. Some really great touches like the alliteration of north and night, the rhyme of blues and shoes, the sound of “draped in gray.”

    Kind of perfect. Move on is a good idea.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Yes. The PNW in February…”For the milky sun and messy watercolor blues, for spring’s tentative tracing of the dance floor with it’s shoes” = awesome! I’m gonna print this out and paste it on my fridge so I can read it often.

    Liked by 1 person

    • That’s so stinking cool, I don’t think I’ve ever been printed out on a refrigerator before…thanks! I think I have arrived now, officially 🙂 and thanks for sharing with your FB friends, appreciate it. Bill

      Liked by 1 person

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