Blue so perfect it looked
Azure.
The Greys dormant,
Like ash on my tongue.
Bare since eternity,
With storm-wrinkles now and then,
Wonder how often the sky
Is a baby and old again.
The Black so deep,
Deeper than Hades' Keep.
The Silver so fine,
Blinds a cat's eye.
Still bare since eternity,
With a pattern of utmost conformity,
Wonder how the same sky
Is beautiful yet marred with deformity.