Copyright (C) 2010 Smithwrite.net All Rights Reserved
isbn: 978-1933964164
Buy at Amazon
Buy at Barnes & Noble

256 Zones of Gray

 

 

Rain is an excuse

I didn't want to use so

I went out into

the filter of cloud,

a day imitating Ansel Adams with

256 zones of gray,

each a color of its own,

each distinct,

each alive,

and crisp,

and clear.

The autumn foliage

plots to cheat the day

with muted pigment,

but light doesn't allow it.

Water, sky, tree, grasses

full of color, yet not.

Silver water beads on waxy leaves.

I won't sit on the park bench today,

but stand at the juncture of black and white,

in the cast of muted light,

in the spectrum filtered sky.