Thin layers like high
Distinguished by the miles of sky
A race to the top they fly
Gravity, they will never defy
A small family occupies
The extensions of layers
Closest to the sky
The children reach up
Touching birds as they fly by
Buried in the top layer of skin
Roots hold in the frozen ground
Maybe their children touch the sky
But they know they never will
The sheer forcive breath
From Northern skies
Hits a sail in the storm
Yes, it flies
Capturing faces
Cold children huddle
Fire is fleeting and dangerous
Yet this is a similar puzzle
