Poetry

Grey Rainbows

Mountains rooted either side of my neck today,

watered by the grey clouds circling above.

The orange was mocking and overbearing,

a sour fruit

bereft of all zest.

It painted my mood with sepia,

and I worried it would stay that way,

conscious of what it may cause me to do.

But you were patient

and willing to overlook,

happy in the knowledge that I at least knew

what I was like

slumped against the day.

You brought rivers of music,

chestfuls of laughter

and an evening of family chatter and games.

The colours of myself returned

and wrapped me in a warm blanket

embroidered with pieces of your heart.