№ III up is down
The clouds are burdened
in fact, the whole of heaven is blue
some sort of majestic navy, with faint touches of pink-grey.
It started one morning
for no apparent reason,
now rays can’t heat the limbs
of the wild
and the huge orange night adventurer
can’t penetrate the seeming solidity.
We can’t bade in her beauty.
It’s a shame really.
The only sounds we hear are sirens below
and furious hammer swinging above,
young hearts are confused
not knowing how to decipher