achup hoa


Chronicles in Grey

Reflections borrowed and thoughts spinned about things in the grey.

CHRONICLE III. 4 JANUARY 2010

Grey Linen Journal, Entry dated December 22, 2010

A bittersweet grey –

not jet black or matte white,

or sultry or sharp –

is this place.

A gentle, bold stroke

has brushed this space.

CHRONICLE II. 27 JANUARY 2010

Aldous Huxley, Brave New World, Chapter One

“A square grey building of only thirty-four stories. Over the main entrance the words, CENTRAL LONDON HATCHERY AND CONDITIONING CENTRE, and, in a shield, the World State’s motto, COMMUNITY, IDENTITY, STABILITY.”

CHRONICLE I. 9 DECEMBER 2009

Marilyn McEntyre, “Early February,”

This is a sad, grey time—

Pleasure here and there, but little that deepens into joy

Not even grief that drives the soul

To utter its de profundis

And be widened into prayer

Only the feeling of nothing to rise to:

Nurtured moment of waiting, wanting

Something not knowing what

Laundry to be done and breakfast cleared away

Grace doesn’t always come as a rainbow

Sometimes it hovers like a pewter sky

Tucked in around the treetops

Bringing the landscape close to the eye

Still grace comes on a grey like this

In odd disguises: Traction on my boots

The man chipping ice off the library steps

Fat truck tracks to drive in

And all the shades of grey

For the gifts of greyness let us give thanks

Cobblestones and flagstones

And boulders of granite

Clapboard houses dark shuttered

And lamp lit in the afternoon

Snow on asphalt

Pencil and charcoal

The naked stretch of steel that protects us

At the bridge’s edge

Old movies from a kinder time

The wolf and the owl hungry and hidden

The rabbit’s fur

The hawk’s eye

The dolphin’s back

The cocoon where a caterpillar

Quietly works out

Its salvation

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