In the grey

I walked in the grey

Right after waking up.

In the unlate hours  

Passers-by were

Stolid effigies of fog.

It was too early to feel.

Stories were being woven.

Paths were being carved.

Whether my eyelids were close

Did not matter much. 

I walked in the grey of that day

Knowing full well the only light to be had

Was that which she would shine on me.