I walked outside and everything was grey scale.
Devoid of color, devoid of time
the world was neither dark nor bright,
but somewhere in-between.
Silver sky reflected in white snow-
contrasted by the charcoal shadows and black-tar roads.
There was no color. There was no sound.
No children laughing, talking, shouting-
They are all at school sitting at their desks.
No runners running or dogs barking-
they all huddle warm inside their homes.
No, the neighborhood was as still and muffled as the sun above-
visible but muted by the even silver clouds-
like a silent film in black and white.
I paused on the front porch steps-
acclimating myself to this bizarre stillness.
Only the wind blowing through the naked trees
assured me I was not still dreaming.
Bringing Mae Flowers 