Happy National Poetry Month, we have finally reach my last poem for the month!  This is an odd little poem I wrote around ten years ago and re-wrote several years later. I definitely did not save the best for last. I have never considered myself to be much of a poet, but it is an art form that I enjoy, and that brings me great comfort in times of sorrow.

 

IMG_8665

 

why the sky is blue:

a layer of vapors stretch

over us like skin

—we curve— it pulls taut—

sagging on the mountain tops,

leaning weight in white bags.

scattered light refracts a change,

like the cheap peeling paint

in your room where we lie together,

an old favorite                   flaking off

the wall

and

to

the

ground.

One thought on “why the sky is blue

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