Thursday, May 9, 2013

Crayola Grey

wikimedia commons
Conté crayon assortment.
Just Plain Bill

I am stressed by the small things right now. A mistaken date on an email. An unexpected chore to take care of.  My failings.

And my failings seem to loom larger right now. Each failing, a catastrophe in the making. Each failing making me feel smaller.

I seem to be able to carve it out and look at it, letting it grow in front of me. Then, when I turn my back to look at the next one, this one recedes a bit.

Failings are sad things really. They crown my day in grey. It is like having a box of crayolas --all in varying shades of grey--the 64 crayon size.

My box is out in front of me today and I am looking intently within. No matter how I move them around inside, I can't seem to feel better about it.

i see the movement swiftly
from the corner of my eye

the jay perches on the old refrigerator
outside the laundry shed

the one rusting out

the jay lens some blue to the grey shed next door
not knowing that my 64 are broken now into nubs

i grab blue while i can

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2013


  1. Sad poem. I hope you soon grab the yellow sun shiny crayons.

    1. Hi Susan--thank you for reading this one--hope all is well in your world

  2. Reading this sad poem, it kind of reminds me, how I feel myself at this moment. Audrey, I hope your box of crayolas, all 64 of them, will soon turn into cheerful shades of pastel.
    Beautiful writing!
    Lots of hugs,

  3. Beautiful reflections made, but the sadness only makes the successes sweeter and I hope for many for you.


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