Seven Shades of Gray
(with apologies to Ted Hughes)
One is a wolf
That circles my bones like a moon
An avid reader of checkmarks
On a rusty bucket
List
Another is a sky like a factory floor
Greasy with poisons and weight
That presses like god's foot
My throat is raw with this
Fingers of oaken sentinels
Pry at the sky as if to redeem sun
From that kingdom of lead
Or to unleash unbidden rain
That loosens such grand feet as theirs
As the last tears of color fall
The gloss of obsidian has left my ink
Like the last pullet
In the jaws of a mink
And my stanzas sob like broken children
The lake absorbs bleak furies
That lash at hope like teeth of iron
And the only voice from above
Speaks in the dialect of thunder
I wonder what I would look like
Written on granite
The evening news is painted thus
With wars enough for all of us
And rainbows absorbed by greed
The frogs are resting in coal-dust-mud
And I can gain no purchase
On the thin breath of god
Soot falls like pollen from some
Long dead flower
That wilts in mankind's final hour
To repose beneath a slab of stone,
Colorless and cold proclaiming
suicide










Congrats
C






You are a superlative source of literary aspirations, a superb Wordslinger, nonpareil. There are so very few rare and excellent voices we have speaking for the previous generations, the present, and the future descendants to come. You, my very dear Friend, my Forever Friend, are one to be reckoned with, no matter what subject you choose to tackle with your visceral, volatile, virile hand. This is superb writing. Apologies to Ted, my ass, Sir!!! He smiles upon your countenance, as much in wonder as the rest of us mere mortals. What would you look like, written on granite? The same beautiful Soul we all know and love. One who could never, ever be forgotten. We librarians will make sure of that, Scribe!!! Thank you for entering this magnificent penning in my contest, Sweetness. The bar has been raised - or razed, as the case may be. Good luck, Rob. God, how I love this poem, this Poet!
♥ 


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