Impressions of a Thursday Morning

Impressions of a Thursday Morning

The sun mourns the dawn and departs: a phantom.

The sky pallors, as if told some unutterable truth. 

A concrete road becomes a black glass sea and

branches extend their arms to an embraceless mist.

The fog saps the autumn with its gray greed.

Insomniac leaves toss and turn in ghost sheets and

gravity reaps them down, plucking them away

until they become ghosts themselves.

Three ravens dot a wire like ellipsis

they take flight, carrying with them

unspoken words to a blank parchment sky.

Rain soaked lungs fill with wintry wind

and exhale breaths of brume into the gray.

Added minor edits

Facbz: 1     2