The Gray Season Poem by D.P. Lukich

D.P. Lukich

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The Gray Season

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Trees shed,
Ostensible hairs,
Actual tears,
This season,
Gray season.

Ominous skies,
puffed with particles,
particles of pure joy.
Skies rain down pure joy!

Days of pure joy;
Beautiful and yet,
we get but four,
and none more.

Gray season, indeed.

D.P. Lukich

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Topic(s) of this poem: joy

poem poems joy

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Poems By D.P. Lukich

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D.P. Lukich

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