What can YOU say in six sentences?
Our union is a beautiful clear sky; the blue so hard you could walk on it.
While the sun slowly climbs the youthful sky, vapor gradually congregates and seemingly
out of nowhere, clouds are born; but these few transparent infants offer no
threat as the sun continues to crawl across the sky.
The sun prepares to relinquish the sky as a stiff wind bruises the clouds, and as
if to protect itself from similar harm, the mercury draws in upon itself as it contracts.
The starless night becomes a vacuum, swallowing all light and hiding anything of beauty
while icy darts leak from invisible eyes in the sky, melting on stung skin and washing away
the memory of that beautiful hard blue.
As retirement approaches for the night the wind stops slinging its missiles, and diminishes
into a breeze as soft as the breath of lovers, with a promise of warmth as tantalizing as the anticipation
of the next kiss.
And as a new day dawns it promises us a probability of:
a beautiful clear sky, the blue so hard you could walk on it.