These gray days, clouds moving swiftly
the wind blowing layers steadily
away, still revealing
nothing but more gray
until it feels as if the sun
was just a memory,
and things will always be like this, nothing but
gray
rolling ever past
so cuddle close and listen to the wind
howling
stare into the fire with me,
tell me stories,
dream for me the
shapes and colors
of summer
and bring me back the sun.