The Blue-Gray Dome
I misplaced myself a little while,
lay on the balcony with a jean quilt
looking at the stars.
The blue-gray sky domed over me,
draped over the mountains and the city.
Dewdrops hung from invisible strings and
crickets sang a chorus of night,
a song to carry my soul to sleep
in a lonely land of inhales and exhales.
Cool autumn wind danced from my toes
to tickle my face, blowing under the quilt.
I memorized the scene of silhouette branches
and tiny hurried satellites,
faint light spilling out the window.
Wrapped snug in the patterns of blue,
the varied stitches of white,
I closed my eyes and shivered,
warm and cold all at once.