burrs (14/August/18)

the wind clung on as long as it could but eventually surrendered to drizzle leaving just sweepings barely brushing the leaves as finings of air were dampened and deadened and dragged rebellious to the ground… it hoped to do more, see another day but instead was given only a taste just enough to extort a regret as rain determined and decided its fate… it had fair warning but when does the wind ever listen to any other than itself, too busy gyrating, berating umbrellas, bullying branches, bartering breezes for the calm before that already calmly walked away when it could unseen and unheard… but in the end its enthusiasm got the better of it and frayed becoming threadbare, a scrabbling, babbling, shambling vagrant with nothing to share but a pocketful of burrs…

© 2018 robert greig

m is t (10/august/18)

…… infiltrations… shadows in the dark… peel away the shades of grey finding nothing underneath… more and more just shades of grey, darker, lighter, stained with colours no one’s learned to see making sounds no one’s taught to hear, making fears that haven’t been conceived… no muscles, tendons, bones or blood, no veins, arteries, no heart, no pulse… holes in holes as one begets and one begets and one begets another penetrating colour, ultraviolet, infrared, achromatosed in monotone monotony… an anaemic air of itinerant, indigent indifference exfoliating light…
… mist…

© 2018 robert greig