Who, when looking up,
Can view the colors and white clouds
Have the ability with the forethought
To see above the edges,
On the brink of it all and fine one here.
Watching for the pale ones, all Mocking and claims abroad,
See right there? That little line
Swirls back and forth like, Bells older
Dog, and swinging it’s weight again.
That face should see the top of the sky
It’s looking to the sun above, and Holding something in his heart,
And in the very center with the sun
That floating girl chasing her horse.
More things may be there, in that sky
Where clouds mix brightly with the
Light, where one can see forward and
Up, and find the sky with its stars
Waiting on the fringes, again.
Ralph Peck
Photography by Marla Bolton
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