The Sky's Mask
In a bruised
and tortured sky
these masks
will almost
certainly die.
What remains
will be blue
sun and blue
always there
even at night
shared on the other side.
If we could
only remember
in the dullness of a day
and the darkness of the night
the promise
beyond the mask.
But even masks
have their ironies.
The winds and torrents
that rain
a pasts passion
and we who
are like the water
move and reflect
what the sky has to offer
should remember
this brief and fading urgency,
the gravity
of what the sky's mask does teach.
LauraLee K. Harris
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