Sky

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Sky

Car wheels roll, wheels crunch, wheels squeak,
Over rocks, on dark black ice, spread
Haphazardly on open, swelling highway,
Heaving hills, and open, gaping
Sky.
Space. Lights of the city lie flat,
Spread wide, and I open, open
Up, and out and up the stars
Dance subtly against a stark, black
Canvas.
I smirk, as a smile won’t do, not
With the derision, the hindsight I have
Not seeing from above, or below (as
For so long all I’ve done is look up,
Or down).
But now, I am looking across;
Looking in. Breathe. There are no layers
Here, no levels, no floors. Bungalows
Speckle fields and foothills, like hay bales,
Like trees.
And even the skyline rolls. The layers
Peel away, crumble down, and somehow
I am rolling, along the highway,
Like wind on wheat fields, like ice on stones,
Like clouds on sky.

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