Have you ever seen a gray moon?

Not just the color,

Sort of overcast, hanging sadly in the shadows of the night,

It illuminates nothing, and yet it still gives off a pitiful puff of light

Like the end of the last drag of a wilting cigarette.

Lifeless, dull, dreary, weathered

Smudged glass reflecting fingerprints

Yellowing newspapers crinkled in a scrapbook

Quietly standing by, observing the night

From the corner of a barren room,

Perhaps a musty-scented basement?

Perspective can change its appearance and

The moon can illuminate -White! Harvest! Yellow! Shining!

But not tonight

Not here

Not in this season

It is just gray.

I can relate.