Himself Again ~ Philip Brent Harris

A steely gray the sky today,
Ocean full of sand in foam.
I wonder why? I ask the sky,

When I would stay and play,
In yon starry depths to roam.
When nighttime lingers nigh,

How might I wend my way?
No help from a massy tome.
Should I flee, or would I fly?

Ashen clouds bow and pray.
Trail invites me to go home.
Farewell, so long, goodbye.