Gray

November crept in like an unwanted cat,slinking around in the shadows, then announcing its ugly presence in a continuous whir of cold north wind. 

Chased away were the afternoons of a late indian summer. 

Nightfall doused us early, sending us to our room without dinner like punished children. 




Gray paint, colors of nothingness tossed about from horizon to horizon hiding
blue skies and memories of warm days past, as I stand in my playground and shake my fist, rain spits in my eye.