You shape my bones into your hunting coat. <br />Rain slants like needles through the falling air. <br />The field is vast with the old blood of leaves. <br />Fire in the windows warms my eyes to sleep. <br /> <br />Trees interlace the hills with gray patchwork. <br />I feel your fingers mend my broken wings. <br />Wind fades your name into a thread of smoke. <br />I cry its incandescence through my dreams. <br /> <br />We must believe that gray is beautiful, <br />East still exists although its outlines dim. <br />I feel the wind of dawn upon my face. <br />Put your hand there, and you will feel it too. <br /> <br />Previously published, Auraq, Pakistan<br /><br />Sandra Fowler<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gray-is-beautiful/
