Falling down slowly
The world, in a dream tonight
For all knowingly
Sees the absence of light.
Beating quietly on the street
Cold rain washes away the sun
Leaving no ground with heat
Running as quickly as it had come.
The clouds do not cover the stars
Which shine peacefully in the sky
But they appear to be out so far
They might only be shimmering lies.
Flowing tears in the grey
Carrying off one lost day.
March 8, 1987
If you read enough of my poems, you may notice I tend to prefer the UK spelling of “grey” over the American spelling of “gray.” Why? Well, in my imagination, these words are two different shades of the color. “Grey” looks like this in my head:
while “gray” looks like this:
Anyway, “grey” is clearly a darker shade, and “gray” is a lighter one. I have no idea why, though I like to think it’s because I tend to imagine London fog as murky and mysterious. That’s probably not how the difference started for me, but that’s what I run with these days. : )