Blue

Morning sun lifting

Spirits follow grey clouds part

Revealing blue skies

Grey

Grey, grey, grey, grey, grey
Various shades of grey gloom
With hints of brown blah

Memory

Shifting ground beneath
My feet unsure made to wait
For things still foreign

Hold tight to me now
I need to run run faster
Then not turn around

Until I'm on shore
With cupped hands sipping the Lethe
I long to be free