solitude in grey scale

the water mimics the sky.

the day slides into greyscale. soft drips of solitude and hidden treasures.

with curved hands i excavate. part fearful of what i might find. part elated as earth is swept aside. what is uncovered can no longer hurt us. i retrace the tracks to the holy grail.

everything must settle. this is the law of dust.

we share our dreams by long distance.
the patterns come into sharp focus momentarily. and it shocks me with it's suddeness and i can no longer recall all the meanings when it slips back out of view