Poem Hunter
Gray Is Beautiful
SF (February,4,1937 / W. Columbia, WV, USA)

Gray Is Beautiful

You shape my bones into your hunting coat.
Rain slants like needles through the falling air.
The field is vast with the old blood of leaves.
Fire in the windows warms my eyes to sleep.

Trees interlace the hills with gray patchwork.
I feel your fingers mend my broken wings.
Wind fades your name into a thread of smoke.
I cry its incandescence through my dreams.

We must believe that gray is beautiful,
East still exists although its outlines dim.
I feel the wind of dawn upon my face.
Put your hand there, and you will feel it too.

Previously published, Auraq, Pakistan

User Rating: 4,9 / 5 ( 15 votes ) 25

Comments (25)

cannot find 'indigo' yet. but read this one. black is beautiful too, then its not. this is a very uplifting poem on a gray day here brightened up by the coloured cloths-pegs hanging on a line against a background of bare wintry trees. honoured at your request. i'm sure your beyond all this 10 stuff but you can have as many as you want from me. take care and sail on, john
'i cry its incandescence through my dreams' truly grey is beautiful...for it has both black and white... and light and dark.....
such lovely imagery...each and every line...so beautiful
Wonderful poem with wonderful imagery,10+++
Am so enchanted by the flow of words, Sandra..It is soothing to read and calm my spirit..This is so beautiful..Wish i can do like this kind of poetry, but only you can do justice..i love this.. love, Sweetie Meggie
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