One Percent:

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.