The grey dawn emerged
as a background to the day,
she put on her grey dress
and white bonnet.
The grey goose in the yard
was silent and her
grey sleek beautiful cat
silently approached.
Her hair was grey too
and her grey shoes
Serviceable.
But she was not grey.
Unpretentious, calm, growing older
in peace, she was nonjudgmental,
unassuming, thoughtful.
When the battle came,
the grey uniforms, stained red and then brown,
she was a strong, unobtrusive shadow,
passing with strips of torn cotton
for bandages and bandages of words
of comfort to bind the wounds.
Her colours were but
nuances of resilience
in the face of tragedy.
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