Hot Water Music – In The Gray

I’m suspended now,

Hanging in the gray of a weather beaten town

December rolls around,

Lays a blanket of herself on the ground where comfort lives in sound,

Like a gun laying cold on the ground, no way to spell it out.

Still much to say of a gun left down.

Most of me is elsewhere wondering

Shall we hear a song? Shall we live one, soaked to the hone?

I’m suspended now,

Hanging in the gray of a weather heavy cloud,

Soften my face and bow,

Bid my farewells to the ground for now

Part of me is sinking, pondering.

Hope is a gracious term, aligned with the faith that reason

has a course to take, be the just one.

until then, I will drown, go down without a fit.

How glorious is it?

Bound in sound, even and weightless and free from wrist to wrist