Thursday:

It’s all gray against gray today.

Gray squirrels run high, hairline limbs

spidering from sweet gum silhouettes’

charcoal sketch against liquid lead clouds:

a seething sea/death gray pock-marked with

barbed seed pods floating like mines

in wait of gray hulled ships

to surprise and explode to brilliant yellow.

Even an anonymous death could brighten this day.

Sunday:

The moment so precious,

yet…..called,

I rise, with expletive, to abandon

the sun and grackles swarm the trees

jeering my concessions,

shaming me,

plopping sweet gum pod’s

barbed, brown blessings,

on a god’s green grass

and my sinner’s head.