The morning is mitigated,
part cloud, part mild sun,
the silence of windsong
rattled by Sunday gung-ho gun shots,
sky scattered with birds then scoured by rain,
but the stolid, rocky monolith of grey,
the block unchanged by wind, rain or sun,
indifferent to birds and bullets,
the unmitigated dreariness,
is the absence of you.
Another good one Jane 💜
Thanks Willow 🙂
Absence is always a very solid grey. (K)
Not even the solace of black.
That last line–wow! I wasn’t expecting that.
Husband went into Bordeaux today. When he’s not here the silence becomes noticeable.
😔