How is it the sky knows
the heart’s secrets?

My blood simmers
infernal this pain

A stream of clouds
lit by a fiery horizon

reflects what words
cannot express

How is it the sky knows?

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

30 thoughts on “Sky”

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