Settled in,

window seat,

wet feet flooding past,

fleeting reflections

in the steaming glass,

looking for the light

in this city

now grown grey

like those hairs

to hard to hide

above those lines

the mirrors reveal

below the eyes

grown weary of watching,

how did the road

spread itself out so far,

behind is a distance

too complicated

to comprehend,

too muddled

to measure,

even the mirror,

this glass, this reflection

cannot hold

all that has been lost

from sight.

All has settled in

so deep

it is difficult to see

in the reflection

all we once were

as we make movements

meant to be meaningful,

amid all that has of late

grown grey. Grey is the new

black but we have no time

to mourn,

the track never stops for us,

the herd hobbles

forever onwards,

there is no going back,

no slowing down

regardless of the weight,

we moan like mooing cows

but follow like sleep

ignorant of the slaughterhouse

outside on those wet streets

with those feet flooding past

all those fleeting reflections

falling unnoticed

into this river

of graying blood.


All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Audio version available on SoundCloud…


15 thoughts on “GROWING GREY

  1. Grey dampness is soul-wearying. I like your photo–and there seems to be a bit of sparkle in the grey there.

    It is bright and sunny here now, but bitterly cold. We’re supposed to have record lows tonight–below 0 temps!

  2. Thank you for this beautiful poem and photo,dear Dami!
    To light a candle and chase some of the grey weariness away, I am sending you hugs and warm wishes for a happy, healthy and bright 2018!
    Much Love,

  3. So poignant and pondersome. Is that a word? You got me creating new Words now, Dami, to describe your work. Deeply affecting. Happy New Year Dear Friend! May it be brighter than the last. Cheers! 🎉

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