Wind whips through my hair
Sending it like a cat of nine tails
Across my face

I smile on

A foam of gray spreads its wings above me
So different from the blue of yesterday

Bleak brown figures reach
Their bare arms towards me
Begging for the coverings they have shed

I glance down, and rise up
A shiny black surface smiles at me
How odd that the chariots that ride it
Are so rusty
And unadorned
Unlike the solid ground
I once rode on
Gray and ugly, but ridden by shiny, beautiful things
Almost as if to say that the most beautiful
Things are found at the lowest point

Sky above me
Trees around me
Ground beneath me
Blood inside

Take me to a summer where
Glory will in my eyes shine