The poem is old

The poem is old and she is grey
And near the fire reading poem.

The fire is grey ash in  her eyes.
Eyes turn grey and swelling old.

You now think of big bad beast
Moving across  hot desert sands.

Big bad beast is grey and a blur,
Colors neutral and nobody cares.

(thinking of W.B.Yeats’ poem “When You are Old and Grey”)

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