Simplicity Poem by David Taylor

A grey day of grey skies
with grey tarmac wet with rain
reflecting yet more grey again
a grey suit with a blue-grey tie
a silver car, grey with grime
a grey pigeon upward flies
against grey clouds of not blue skies
grey hair, on top of greying stares
as people greyly pass me by
a grey squirrel scampers up
a grey tree, named an ash
grey, a mixture of white with black
like a photo black and white
it has a simple charm, this grey
when the colours, fade away
and leave us with just a form
unadorned by the rainbow's hues
that, like spices, hide from us
more subtle tastes, upon taste buds.