A Different Kind of Grey

deepening gray
clouds hang thick and low

crows scattered in
the sky and on patches
of grass, and in parking lots,

seem to be coming from
every direction.

and in my head
clouds part, and i see
that perhaps for the first
time in my life i have
outweighed the bad
habits with good.

and i feel good.

outside of Miller
Paint Co. painters
gather near the tailgate
of pickup trucks, white
pants, white coveralls,

painted and faded
t-shirts and flannels, talking
shop, perhaps a couple of them are looking for work.

and i think of
the faces of the young, of my children.

and i see the faces of the old,
of the buried.

and i see the household divided with friction,
will soon be the home of agreement, joy, and growth.