poet – Nicky Clifford

Painted Grey

When grey is painted through your life

and each small step is tough;

when brightness leaches from your soul

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Still. Peace. Quiet.

Dew-touched webs

glisten in half-baked

sun.

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Oh this love that curls

deliciously, enmeshing my open

heart with every beat.

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Rich red shooting drops

of curvy flutes.

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Wherever I roam through the countries and towns,

if a week or an hour or a year,

my heart doesn’t stray from the place that I love;

my home will always be here.

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