gray

I like the hard gray days
soft inside and no one calling
and stillness

The steely drenched days
wrapping around the hours 

speechless.

About a Pink Moon

It was embarrassing asking if it was the moon out there
and more so, that it had given me a fright
sitting  as it did
low on the sea - pink and full and only just visible

but I wasn't sure -nor sure that I cared  to know
as if  it might come at me
being level - as we were
each at the edge of the sea, or so it seemed

me on my side, she on hers
and she - so much more equipped, round as she was
to tumble over the sea
careening in pink voluptous bounces
dwarfing sails, and children, fast and effortlessly

and putting out the day.