Sky

it was raining out today so I couldn't burn any more pages in the fire pit so instead I took the pages in a big box and left them out in the rain and every once in a while I stirred the pages up and now and then something caught my eye such as this poem which has nothing at all to do with the project itself:

Outside the window

the sky doesn't doubt 

its color for a moment,

nor does it moan any

complaints.

Above the green trees

that make the dark horizon,

the sky has a soft golden glow,

ever so lightly dusted in pink.

The sky is poised on 

the cusp of evening.

The day has passed by and the sky

has done its share, producing such beauty.

I have not smiled or

appreciated it nearly enough.

Tomorrow I vow that I will

make a point to sit and stare

at the sky watching clouds go by.