8 Shades Of Gray Poem by D.P. Lukich

Air blurs as it's filled
drip after drop,
Gravity pulled with alacrity
them down, down from the stratosphere.
Down to our own sphere, not strato's.

Wetting it all,
Straight to the core.
The leafy canvas, down to the hem,
or...rather the stem.

ACK!
I'm sprayed by the prismic falls before me!

Awoken,
I'm free to see the clouds.
Eight shades of gray race before my eyes.

Aloof,
to the roof of gray.
A-ha,
It sprayed me with reason?

'Wake up, ' it says
'and see eight shades of gray,
or blue,
green,
gold or any other Earthly hue.'

'A-ha, ' I shout to the roof!