The sky contained every feeling
Of every rainy day
Every memory
Of a glint of golden sunlight on bare skin
But most importantly
It contained time-
It contained it
So much
That it eventually became time

The sky wasn't just a cycle
Of a day
Of a night
Separate
The same
Rather,
It was as infinite
As the wind it carried-
Never stilling, or disappearing
Or taking turns
Recorded in seconds
On a face of a clock
On an empty wall

Rather,
It just kept running
Above us