Suddenly, she finds herself, crying out to stars, to beg after a late-rising Moon, to know if he is well…
His abode, lonely, in the blizzard of an indigo sky; are there, at least, astronauts to care for him?
Oh god, if only her hands were more like red-painted rocket ships, and less like bone, and flesh.
If only she had been one born, a pale-tone Selene, robe of silver silks, colour of his-eye-blue …
One born, nearer a space to his home, even if she might have been Eos, saffron-cloaked Aurora…
As it is, she stands
in the dirt, the leaves, too many roots to reach out to him, there in
his big sky country…
Flowers, alive in the darkness of dirt, always seeking out a something from the heights of blue sky.
Double rainbow 🌈
deer, sunset, thyme, and clouds 🦌🌥🌿☁️
I swear the sky was so beautiful that night and my camera didn’t do it justice.
A storm rolled over us during sunset.