by Darryl Price

Today the color of the sky
remakes my heart into something
less willing to break, or to judge,
and I am thankful for it. A
color not unlike walking chest
deep in the ocean and seeking
beautiful clouds and thinking I
will be back. Dreaming with the sky.

Please stop lying to me. A sky
like the shining skin of berries,
maybe my obvious lack of
composure here. The color, which
is it, much needed honesty
or simply running away? They
say promises are meant to be
broken. Oh the color like no

walls between us. That would be my
wish. If only, of the sky, so
blue, edible, bell-shaped, azure,
cobalt, you name it, Oxford and
cyan, O the slender shafts of 
sunbeams suggesting reflections
somewhere. The color of the sky
today like the perfect dancer

in complete control  of the gifts
of natural grace and timeless
storytelling. The color like
no one can kill it, pollute it
or ruin it in any known way
forever. But I know you are
going to be doing something
terrible with wind and rain soon.