Shades of Gray
A man in black,
blurred, as the beating
wings of butterflies
cannot be captured.
Smudged, the steps
he took, lie
smeared
on his past,
like a wake of mud printed
soles.
He’s cryptic,
obscure as the pictures
drawn to fill an
empty space,
unknown as those behind
him. Come back to
airplanes and clover leaves,
childish bathroom walls. These tiles
are trodden weary shades of gray.