Rust 

Like fresh young steel,
I used to reflect
the sky's cool blues.

But like an aging man,
skies turn gray,
precipitating change.

The chemical reaction
of flashy to ashen,
luster to dust.

Like water eating steel,
my smooth skin pitting 
with soft powdery rust.

So be careful when you
brush up against me now.
I might stain your new pants.