Gray

Ice

Blue-grey

Reflecting

Walking carefully

Each step laid with same care as sticks

Desperately hoping to not step through their craftsmanship

Forward trodding, each footprint reinforced by experience and care, young sprouts in sight

Only for the gray muses to cut this journey short, a golden flash, a silent snip, a louder "crunch!" as snowmelt rushes to greet my toes

To wonder, did they find this amusing? Though their home has been broken, I still hear the wind-echos chortling, as ancient mud stirred and settled and tiny silver smelt from a blacksmith long ago escape, I embrace the grey