the small skies

in the small skies where the starlings figure as major players and the crows sit on lamp posts cawwing to each other about the passage of the almost gone to bed little children or dogs.

in the small skies where the clouds jostle and push and billow minutely and without any real purpose but somehow in their creasings and furrowings find shape and purpose and even a slender sort of beauty.

in the small skies, i find myself searching for colour. tiny sweeps or startles of colour. and tonight i found some.