Gray, oh the gray sound of snow falling to the
tips of the trees,
Gray, when you wake up and listen to the stillness
of darkness all around you,
Gray, the smoke whirling out of a chimney onto
the frosty treetops,
Gray, oh the grayness of your mind walking down
the street alone, all alone,
Gray, the color of your skin freezing in the silent
Gray, the minds of students listening to the teacher
blabbing about something they already know,
Gray, when you are in the car waiting and waiting
for something that you’ve dreaded since
the year before,
Gray, home all alone, grounded with everyone gone,
Grey, the darkness it brings.
Editor's note: Reef's father, Tom, says:
"this is the poem that earned Reef a big
fat 'C', from his 5th grade teacher. Perhaps it
was the reference to the teacher that talks on
and on about material they 'already know', that
bothered her. I don't know. But I think it's pretty
darned good. And I can be pretty hard on the kid."
Doodle by John Schilling.