Grey

Grey My wife has said They’re going grey How many more By Saturday? Just one or two They are so nice Pepper and salt- I pay time’s price Is this a sign I am time’s fool Or is it just My work at school? I’ll hide my worry In my words And think of all The bees and birds Do they go grey Or is their time To die when they Are in their prime? I will not ask I’ll wait and see How many more Will grow on me No strut or fret No lengthy pause Thoughts as they come I’m in time’s claws If I had spent My darker days Thinking less And writing more - Who knows what I would be today A poet with His hair gone grey?