Gray— color of ambivalence, shadow of margins
where a pencil’s sharp point fluctuates, ticking a thumbnail
sketch of an empty boat rocking in its icy winter slip.
What groan becomes gray? From soft falling
snow to wind that makes its mark on frozen fields, I
watch the insult of a light touch wearing down
this land’s immortality. Like my body’s shape
is shadow, I can stop here briefly, with-
out being a specialist— merely a silhouette
of who I am when no one is looking.
M.J. Iuppa's fourth poetry collection is This Thirst (Kelsay Books, 2017). For the past 29 years, she has lived on a small farm near the shores of Lake Ontario. Check out her blog: mjiuppa.blogspot.com for her musings on writing, sustainability & life's stew.