A Day Poem by Way Lenn

That day was sketched grey
As we walked between concrete
Dwellings, and my head cool
From rainwater but my thoughts
Burned a hole in my mind.

Dark fingers moved down walls
Reaching for ground and pooling
There, and sent us this way and
That as if shoo-ing us from the
Grey fortresses they protected.

The sky rinsed out more of its
Dark blanket and as its labour
Fell all ‘round it hissed its contempt
At us, and muted our voices ‘til
Words fell short and we drew silent, still.

Just as well, there was nothing left
To say and as we continued on walking
Close the distance grew and I wanted to
Strip when I got home and soak and
Wash away the toil of this day,
And my thoughts of you.