by Lucy Mellor 

“Is the sky blue?”

Said sarcastically –

Analogous to

“Is the Pope Catholic?”

As though the Pope

Changes his faith

With sunrise

And sunset.

A mutiny of colours

Largely unobserved

Hang wistfully

Waiting for acceptance

Until time’s end –

Rendering ordinary

Each blue sky

And white cloud.

It’s getting colder –

Time to wrap up

In ourselves

Hurry along the street

With biting cheeks

Not noticing

Hazy dawn

And lazy dusk.

A delicate stroke

Paintbrush in hand

Sweeps across the sky

In a practised motion

Time and time again –

Stops and waits to admire

Pink clouds

And lilac skies.

Bursting in pockets

Of orange and red

Yellow and amber

Fiercely existing

Defiantly resisting

The inevitable

Skylines

And horizons.

Rare beauty

Meanders above –

Difficult to reconcile

The non-existence

Of an omnipotent

Creator creating

Every soft wisp

And gentle hue.