Floating fish,
Swimming amongst an ocean
Of turquoise atmosphere.

Clouds waver like shifting curtains;
Tossed slightly in the gentle breeze.
While the whales swim through them,
Their bodies but needles to cotton.

Filtered light lies upon the streets,
Shifting like the winded tree’s shade.
A relaxed, soft, Sunday light,
As dull as worn out blades.

Glinting light on the whales’ backs,
Shining brighter than a million eyes.
Inside this world of shimmering light,
Every existence flamboyantly flies.