By now the first light should have appeared.
It is a gray morning.
I muse more and more about gray mornings,
what they mean, the metaphysical intimations,
if I’m seeing what I need to see
or am waiting for what is to come.
It takes three sets of eyes to see –those that look behind,
those that see where I am, those looking ahead.
The yarrow sticks are cast.
The sun rising behind a deep pink cloud.
It is a gray morning.
I muse more and more about gray mornings,
what they mean, the metaphysical intimations,
if I’m seeing what I need to see
or am waiting for what is to come.
It takes three sets of eyes to see –those that look behind,
those that see where I am, those looking ahead.
The yarrow sticks are cast.
The sun rising behind a deep pink cloud.
-Byron Hoot
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