why one

one snow flake fell

drifting softly

past the window

which needed cleaning

why one

the answer to so much in life

is why

why does the grey feel drawn to me

a silent stalker

eating away at the edges of me

until I question who

and what I am

like sun damage

invisible at first and then

appearing in rough and darkened patches

on my soul

Copyright © 2018 by Eryll Oellermann

today is monday

today we are shrouded in cloud

or mist, that whipe vaporous stuff

that obscures ones sight

limiting distance and blurring definition

peaceful it is, the world when covered

with mother nature’s soft blankie

I hear the rooks call out

before they loom into sight

to settle in the branches

of the old unleafed oak tree

a good day to wander

an old forgotten grave yard

paying homage to the past

while descended cloud moisturises

this worn and wrinkled african face

Copyright © 2018 by Eryll Oellermann