'Greetings from the grey', I mutter in dismay - driving rain driving me around the bend with no end in sight today


There’s a certain uncertainty
Lurking inside of me,
An indeterminate number
of things up in the air,
of which I’m peripherally aware

They’re not so well defined
best not to pay them any mind
until they manifest more clearly,
who says this attitude’s foolhardy?

Though truly
You can feel quite free
Skating on uncertainty
But then what do you do
When the breakthrough joke’s on you?