I Walk Invisibly

to the sound of the advent
of cold water when scheming is colouring landscape
grey on grey improbably clouding the random body of —

along the way     in the sense of
minerals or pollution      one of us
misjudged all manners of trajectory

grey on grey it isn’t slate sounding out water, not
even in the sense of —

in the sense grey is a level-headed one,
not of eventide    not the grey of damp    nor dandelion


where is heather to parse it



this is how my homesick looks / / an apology
picking a bone with the colour of my world

Image: Photo by Annie Spratt, via Unsplash.