The Grey Matters?

We tell fables,

In black and white

and pass these on

as God given birthright

We save up doubt

for rainy days...

trace clouds along

trying to escape...

...“The End.”

and Ersatz Beginning...

We proof ideals,

with lead pencil

unmeant to erase

live-in ghosts upon a page

We’ve made our way

in figure eights...

crossing shadows

with motley mores

...Closing doors, and not

acknowledging

contrasts between 

lore and revelation.

In this mire of divination

where we’re summoned by 

winds of mass hypnosis, and 

the shrug of the iconoclast...

it is so hard to be sure,

and fixed, 

though we all have our own

nervous ticks...

and grow pale and 

sick for want of

light and ethics

...mortally grey...

in a world scene

so chromatic...

in highlight and

deepest shadow...

...Shades upon shades

growing ever more grey

along the gills...

...this brooding fills...

...Our window-panes

with heavy shapes

that throw illusions 

on the walls.

©

5/17/19

Mavia Hankala &

Bunny Villaire