It could be a bear, a hat, a plane -
the choice is yours to ascertain.

Kites zoom and roar
high above the crowds.
A sallow sun peeks through trees
and shines in hesitant rays
upon strollers and the mothers pushing them.

All the while,
the sky lays it's
flouncy, protective blues
across the world,
ensuring that no dream
is too much.

A shame, a pity -
that there shall be no sky
when we're buried six feet deep.

**** me if you must,
but don't take away my sky.