Grey Noise

The river rushes westward,

the edges licking

clay banks

and rock faces,

like a thirteen year old boy

  trying to figure out how to French kiss.

A breeze whistles from the north,

assisting the nearing winter's assault on

  every exposed fingertip.

Somehow, I find it relaxing to wal in the sharp coldness,

as long as I have a coat and a knit hat.

The area around the University's campus

isn't too fancy or interesting

  but the natural features can be stunning.

Don't let them poison me into thinking

I can't enjoy where I am for a minute.