The Gray-

a poem...

This gray day now rising
from most reluctant mists,
Cold rain dropping down 
from an uninforming sky,
whispering, murmuring,
chortling from the eaves,
drains, puddled like fresh
grief or near forgotten joy,
mingling with the sodden
soil, swelling thirsty roots
and eager buds; tomorrow
will bring us sun and blue;
All that flowery brilliance
coming, mere weeks away.

Walk in hope-

-henry