the fusion of gray

an eye of light
peeps in the tiny hole of darkness

and darkness lifts
up its skirt

so the hands of light
may hold what it keeps

between its legs
and light waves upon itself

as though in a trance
a dance

there is this fusion in gray
area where softness lands

and hardness stiffens to
the strength of life

at dawn pastel streaks are born
like a breed of black and white

nothing like an albino or
a negro

this is its offering for its
being lost and wary and

now weary it sits on the window
like a cat waiting for its thoughts

of prey
calculating the next ambush.