There’s too much green in your blue sky
It is nice enough to wish it were mine
some days. But if the sky stands
on the backs of trees to reach so high,
then what of the branches below?
It will not last. It will wither, underneath
the weight of chemical cotton. Wither
to delicate brown, crumbling with a touch.
Halfway to heaven, you think you’re secure;
you’re brilliant at “close enough.” You see
the plight of windswept life as nothing
but opportunity to build your kingdom of air.
Copyright © Jamie Wright Bagley, 2015. All Rights Reserved.