The slanting February sun
Wrapped in a grey furry blanket
Begs forgiveness for offering no warmth
She offers no golden stream
Of light that we might bask in
While sitting in the old,
Red chair in the kitchen
She offers no color to the day
That might distract us
While we make our last trip
To the post office
She only offers grey
All shades of grey
Dove grey
Steel grey
Pussy willow grey
Frozen water grey
Broken wagon grey
Stormy ocean grey
Grisley beard grey
Cold ash grey
She offers no excuses
She knows without her grey
We would never see the blue