Better for me to simply say
my very favorite color's gray.
Instead, I tried to explain
how it's the color of winter and wonder and rain.

And how can I complain?
Sparrows wake me every day
and every night I hear the trains
pulling, pulling, pull away.

I hear the thunder slowly fade.
I grew up in a leafless shade.
So many things I try to say;
I throw my words, they ricochet.

**These were all short, so I thought I'd post them together.**

[1.] "The Arborist's Dream"
The cherry tree, I dreamt, was blighted.
Its bark was bubbling up, frothing pink at each joint.
The disease was making it turn into a cherry soda, all fizzy.
I, the arborist, with my ladder climbed
and trimmed, and pruned, and treated
but in vain.
I could not find the source and kill it,
so the tree was going to die.

Chapter the Twelfth

The ballroom was decked out in bright golds and reds. The people were decked out in their fanciest clothing, especially the ladies. They spared no luxury or decoration; so very many of them turned out looking gaudy and silly in their frills and laces and petticoats. The men, sad to say, weren’t much better.
Torlith wasn’t dancing. Anyone he would have asked would’ve complied, out of fear if nothing else, but he seemed to have no desire to dance. Knowing him, I’m not at all surprised.

Chapter the Eleventh