in the gloomy gray
the day pools into nothing.
bemoan monotone.
bright blight
i can squash the sun
like a bug between fingers.
yet the world stays bright.
shoot, score
the dead, wet, brown grass
knows of a slumbering death.
green shoots point to hope.
green minds
in the hearts of loss
lie barren wastelands of hope.
green sprouts of new thought.
funny
from the beginning
world revolved around sun.
and times were more fun.
cherry pi
a pie is tasty
but not as useful as pi.
let us eat this day.