Over me, the waxen sky can be called “aloof”
An up-high shelf throwing air like a clear bell
Under that, the frozen breeze, a foggy denseness
Exuberance.
I wonder at the opposition, between the two elements
Vernal blue widened by cloudlessness, attained caprice
A craft chiaroscuro-the blueness and the frost
The damp dryness, on my shoulders rests heavy
My clothes melding to the comfort-
My pant legs in rigid flapping-
Down here cold and loquacious, up there bold and still
Together-serene, a form-flitting audacity