Grey piper, so vague and fleeting,
Like a pop song, once familiar.
An unconscious smile retreating,
As one leans closer, craning ear,
Your little drawl so longed to hear.
Comes the dash, wings outstretch,
Revealed pallor, coy under grey;
Turnstone squeal, windy breath to catch.
The Watcher, aloof, feelings sway-
To the unknown, beyond the bay.
Author notes
Minor reference to a loss of self
