When night and day attain the same name
A fog does not affect the atmosphere
In which a bird flies
Yet a sight that troubles
Slowly seeps into its pupil
It starts to give its powers
To the revolving resemblance of air
That flings the bird’s freezing wings
Into a frightening flight into the eye
After which it drowns the remnant thorns
In a deep, contrastive red
To the name attained by night and day
That’s not yet dark, but only grey.
poems by a young gay english major 