In those, other days

In those, other days

When grey was no more than it should be

Coolly understated

Brown, more

Or maybe just less

Than a mood best left alone,

Unless it is October,

With leaves tumbling down

When

In the Sun’s autumn sparkle

Even a brown

Can be tinged with gold.

In those days

Before the wall grew taller

More imposing

Blocking out sunlight

Turning from blue to grey

Heading into purple

The blackness of midnight

Without a pinprick

To bring a spark of redemption

To the lonely heart,

Rapidly beating

In a race toward oblivion,

The wall stood.

Smooth and imposing

Impenetrable

Handhold free

Blood red

In the sunset

As cold as ice in winter,

Sometimes, even in summer.

When the north winds blow

The frost rimes on an eyelash

Tears freeze

On the cheek

The wall is all there is.

In those days

Before the imposition

Of regret

I would rest my hands

On it

And gaze

Out into the vault

Wider than July.

Even in January,

With the world standing still,

I could always see

What lay on the other side.

In those far-off days

When grey was only a colour

To wash over,

With a light brush

A cool facade

Without rancour

And leaves were more than

Moody brown,

I stood,

Before the wall.