A ghazal by Mike Barney
Autumn deep in the bucktooth grip of gray winter.
Gray-green grass glints dull through muddy frost.

Gray-fleeced wolves glide ghostlike
among gray-barked bare trees.

Thick gray clouds obscure the welkin.
Nothing admits the possibility of sunlight.

Outside this grayed-in world colors riot. Cobalt
sky. Ripe yellow pears. Sunsets peach-vermilion.

Inside, monotony unbroken even by
the legendary glistening of snow.

Ghazal 1. Ghazal 3.