3:37 pm
black birds sit perched
on the power lines;
a moment ago,
soaring with their group,
following each other,
and easy to spot
against the light gray
that you had to squint at
to see each individual cloud
that clouded together
to make the sky
and that are passing us over;
the next moment,
gone.
YOU ARE READING
empyrean
Poetrya little poem for the sky with each day that passes by. - 964 in poetry