November 3, 2015, Bracknell,
Ascot and Windsor Great Park
A boredom colored gray has settled on
The unsuspecting morning. Gray invades
The brighter colors grubbied by this dawn.
Not even that reddish pub front evades
This slumped power. This murk has a smell like dull
Despair, an armpit on an older man
At night alone in sheets. It tries to cull
All promise from the other colors, span
Them with its sadness and subdue them all
In veiled depression. Life goes on beneath
This smog-like burden, breasts beneath a pall,
A patient in a fungus colored sheath.
The autumn leaves are lingering in a light
That tries to cast its spell down like a blight.