Fade to Grey

The early mist on the pond

has nearly hidden him from view.
I am inside, upstairs, at the window.
He is outside, over there, burying his dog.

The blue parka bobs and weaves
while puffs of breath follow close.

Slow and steady. Digging in soft earth
as memories flood and tears threaten.

Autumn is the month of fade to grey

but for now a little color remains.

Gold in the fallen leaves.
Gold in the thick coat of fur.
Blue the lone man, coming back.
November, 2008

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Published in: on December 1, 2008 at 5:07 pm  Comments (1)  

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One CommentLeave a comment

  1. Your words paint solitude, sorrow, grief, with being alone, they also offer hope of love and comfort–for he is coming back. Great work, Sue!


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