PINK SKY
Like a dragon yawning, began today's dawning.
Eastern sky teased with hints of a pink morning.
Bursting, it covered East, North and South,
spewing clouds of candy cotton from heaven's mouth.
The sky was writhing to a beautiful sonata, billowing over roofs and tree tops in an extravaganza.
The West remained gray, excluded from excitement:
poised, silent, stoic and devoid of involvement,
except for the start of a rare solid pink rainbow
arching high into the sky, stopping before the glow
of nights taunting stars could grasp it away.
As quick as it came it was gone. Sky again was gray.
The day was not yet over and done.
Pink still had plans for more exhibits to come.
As the sun retreated for another evening of rest,
gray sky scattered and splattered the West.
Slender herring bone clouds assembled in an array.
Pink reappeared, tinting those clouds on display.
Then, tucking Sun into bed for the night,
climbed in beside him, and turned off the light.
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