Grey Blue

The blues, greys, pinks and reds
The murky skies and the colours of sunsets
Heather bushes and grass blades,
You hear, smell and see them all
More of everything
Faces, voices and expressions
People who walk alongside
On those busy old town streets
packed with stores and chic eateries

You ponder about life and its ways
Savour each bite of the lemon drizzle cake
From one thing to the next
Contemplatively you stare
Not fearful of letting time go by
Not needing, wanting, expecting
Those intended, calculated rewards
Promises that you made to yourself
And look at you,
You smile, at what you’ve left behind
Amused at severing those ties
from the plodding everyday
But make no mistake
It’s only a short holiday

It ends as most things do,
on a pleasant Sunday.
Lounging on the couch
The clamour from the tele
draws a veil over the dread in your head
Hesitant to imagine the next day
Delusional futile assurances
Everything may not be okay

The cheerful sunny Monday sky
with a few loner clouds floating by
Fairly comforting and encouraging
You start afresh
new beginnings they say
but are they?

It’s the same space again
in and around you
Apprehension creeping in from the margins
quibbling with feeble determination
neither win or lose
coloured neither white nor black
Though one more familiar
slowly overshadowing the other

Critical mass they say you need,
start a reaction in either direction
But frozen you are
yet running away from conflict
escaping towards the known.
They call it habit
you call it hope
Tomorrow may be different
But today the blues are the grey-est
blurring the boldness in you.