Grey

All the trees were shining a moment ago

Now they are pale and without lustre

You blot them lifeless with heavy hands

As deep thick clouds threatening convene

My breath peppermint full with sting

My eyes cemented from fierce shadows

I sit silence full of life

Breezy fingers of nimbus crawl the sky

Clutching scraps of blue indescribable

Iridescent Cheshire smiles on a canvas of grey

Curling against angry laughter

Building shields of flesh and fur

The moment has gone

The pen is out of ink

I should scratch my words upon the pulp of my heart

And hope one day to remember them