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.