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Gray May
This gray sky
Of May does lie
In lackluster color
A futile eye
With birds too shy
To sing, or fly
Through April's chill
March lingered still
Soaking in chains
Of rain's domain
Why this delay
Of lilac days?
If I could task
A humble ask
A bit of warmth
To bloom, to bask
On cloudy spheres
Which seldom clears
If I should seek
The season's heat
Beneath a leaf's misty rise
Will I find flowers
In disguise?
I am fated to wait
In this northern land
On a summer created
By shorthand
Where silver threads
Of rays are spun
Into an alabaster sun
05/06/24
Copyright ©
Michelle Faulkner
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