The Jealous Sky
I watch the jealous sky
open it's eyes,
drag shrouds of grey
to leech colours from the day.
Yet even raindrops feel pity
as they feed the tributary
of pain upon my cheek,
diluting my skin, stained in you.
I could smell hopes freshness
in mornings birth,
and the sky was contented.
Copyright © Colin Marschall | Year Posted 2007
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