Dun Sky, Undone
Summer skies.
So blue. Such blues.
So blue.
Whitepuffs idly swoop by,
never idling. On the move.
For bluer skies?
A part of the sky fell
out today.
A tiny bit.
A tiny tiny bit.
Hardly matters, this bit
except, I suppose, to it.
(And I.)
And you?
This blue.
Fell from the
sky,
today.
I held it in my hand.
I cried out. I looked around.
(I may have pled.)
I held the blue dead
sky in my palm, to my heart,
and tried to find another
piece in this life
its place.
I tried.
It died.
I cried out. It did not cry out.
I looked around. It did not look around.
Wherefrom did it come?
Whereto shall it go?
Whereto do I aim my questions, too?
A bit of the blue sky fell from the blue sky, today.
A bit of the blue sky fell to silent still soil, today.
I have no questions for
men in hats.
I have no quarrel with pretend gods.
I have no qualm with calm fate.
I just want to know -
I need to wonder at -
If a speck of feathered blue sky
falls from the sky,
what is left
of sky?
What is left of us.
What is left to us?
I wonder.
Where the blue sky fell
is there now
black?
Is there now white?
I set the sky upon a stone.
-ShhDragon
Copyright © Stephe Watson | Year Posted 2018
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