The sky is Western Covered sky dark for half the canopy is covered up the smell of rain
filters down some conflicting with the surroundings the landscaping the hey fever springing
here nearby. The birds were swimming in the sky the western sky with wings folded they
glide then extend the wings again then fold them back confused by the wind in western sky.
They glide then fly then glide. The poet however must walk than lamely then halting lame he
walks under the western sky rain never falls but clouds roll out of the valley walls but back
they come as poet walks. He walks and as he limps along he notices them the gliding flying
birds are gone.