Gray is the sky after a storm
Gray are the clouds that are the storm
Gray is the elephant in the circus tent
and Gray are it's wounds after it's whipped
Gray are the stones in my grandmother's garden
Gray are the stones that killed the unwed mothers
Gray is the ground I walk on
Gray are the roads I drive on
Gray is not sad
Gray is not angry
Gray is not happy
Gray is a color, Gray is not a lifestyle.
Gray is the rabbit my friend brought to work,
Gray is roadkill
Gray is the once living possum,
Gray are its organs, and Gray is its fur.
Gray is the mouse caught in the trap.
Gray is the chapel's stone where my grandparents were wed.
Gray is my Grandfathers headstone,
and Gray is my Grandmothers hair.
Gray is my Grandmothers wig.
Gray is what they call my grandmother, and gray is what she is not.
Gray is the mold on the fruit,
Gray is the middle ground
Gray is the stitching in my sheets
Gray is the car across the street.
Gray does not need to be cleared away
or cheered up, or cleaned up, or hidden, or eliminated.
Gray is monochromatic and neutral.
Gray is light and shadow.
Gray suggests age.
We grow old and our color may go gray
But we do not go gray.
We do NOT go gray, my grandmother is not gray
They call her gray, we call the old gray.
Their hair is gray, their coloring is gray
But their soul is not gray.
We make them gray in our minds...
Gray is just a color, don't make it a lifestyle
I may turn gray, but I will never be gray, and gray will never be me.