Skies
Gray skies upon us
Leafless trees remain silent
When radio plays its tune
Lifes get shorter and shorter
Waiting for a taste of freedom
So tasty you think it’s real
And it smells like spring flowers
These first time each spring
Where is your poetry he asked
There it is right here
Like a baked pig on a plate
With an apple in it’s snout
And then, supernova
A star explodes like on demand
Blows space dust all around
Which shines in light like diamonds