of a january afternoon

Gray;

a secret carried
dusty & forgotten
yet wrapped in the thinnest gauze of cloud linen
folded and folded once again upon itself
dark corners becoming shadow-velvet
gray is intangible
ethereal in her personality & along her edges
does she portend good or evil?
she is but a fog of paused belief
exquisitely laced along lines delicate & tarnished
gray is comfort tucked into Winter's stark whiteness
woolen naps with old books and promises timed to the moon
few are allowed to touch gray
understand her 

or
know the scent of ice--minted & melting