Cheryl Townsend
gray poem
for lonnie sherman
The gray falls outside into my mood
Falls like Erie rain in December
Falls like tears on a broken love
and smells of cold earthworms
My flesh ripples the chill and
memory of sadness and solitude
I find poetry in the clouds
Thick and heavy lie pregnant
breasts Gray like sorrow Like
ache Like death Death is not black
but gray and untouchable Smog
over cities Ghosts across buildings
and bridges Gray Gray Hair of age
Decomposure at the bottom of a
lake Ashes in Southern California
Areas of uncertainty Negative
beliefs A whore's bedsheet
A junkie's vein
A suicide