i like my pittsburgh gray

I like my Pittsburgh gray
like silver with grit
bridge gray
steel gray
river gray
rain gray

the gray at the bottom
of bottomless
old coffee
gone gray with milk
explain that to the hapless fly
who thought it was liquid sky

The gray of the face of age
that answers the door
invites you to tour the knick-knacks
collected on off-season road trips
to the Outer Banks
to Pennsylvania's not-as-grand canyon
to the Maple Sugar Festival in Somerset
with the eighth grade in the '50s
whose alumni meet every ten years
at South Park or North Park or the edge of wood
behind the Eagles lodge
and wear pictures of themselves as teenagers
around their necks
like cutout dolls of historical eras
they read of and forgot
the thin gray smile
of been-there