How Did The Sky Look?
Like the rush of dawn re-emerging from behind the lanky tree-tops
a quiet powder-blue marbled with white. How’d the sky look
when you realised you had
time?
It was time to live like
the summer hadn’t died. I thundered like a young
storm-cloud, bursting with brittle rain. Everything was miles wide
and we had years
and we had years
and we had years
to live in it.
Daisy Harris
Daisy Harris Poetry 