gray. the last
vestige of patterned leaves cling
to the trees and calico ground. Rain
settles in, an unwelcome, familiar face
in the mirror. We are ordered
to give thanks
of human kindness becomes. Skies so gray upon gray
the abbreviated days yield
respite and reason
for thanks. Less hours
in a day you wish
not to rise.
I wrote this draft as part of National Poetry Writing Month. I hope to collect these works for a mixed media/writing piece I am working on entitled Love Letters to My Brother in Prison.