The black shadow of a dove
Flashes over the narrow strip
Of sky that's mind to love
My pale blue horizon
A thin wash of white
Subduing that deeper blue
Like a ceiling getting ready
For a fresco while I wait
For some Michelangelo to appear
To paint the feet of saints
At least that's all I'll get to see
From my narrow stretch of sky
Resting content to picture it there
Another masterpiece flying by
No comments:
Post a Comment