It was a cloudy, misty day,
and we did little,
It was a shifting in between day,
a shadow,
overlapping transparencies,
intransigent opacities,
a day of waiting —
waiting for clarity,
for any forward direction,
where even fresh pursuits
fell muted
into the gray cloud
of what we don’t know.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 25, 2015
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