A cooling blue runs through the clouds, a tint
Like deeper water -- black 'til near to black,
A royal midnight: heavy, just a squint
Away from total darkness -- yet the lack
Of daylight, rather than obscure the hue,
Illuminates it. From above, the shade
Looks rich, like stained glass over land, a blue
Of gothic depth, a blue the cosmos bade
Transfix emotion: sobbing, wretched grief
That by its loss is nobler; silent love
Unmoved; a desolate acceptance, brief
And final; slow and weary sleep. Above
The blue, I see the color darken 'til
The ground is gone; the void is strangely still.
1 comment:
The third airplane poem of the day, written while watching the sky below me darken. I had trouble with that last line, and kinda hate a void that is strangely still -- what's so strange about a still void? -- but hated "sadly still" more, so here it is.
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