Looking through the window into the sky;
Pristine, plush, perfect clouds sit side-by-side.
Streaks, shades of blue fill the horizon wide;
Wondering: what else is there way up high?
Looking through the door I espy, gaze, sigh;
With hues that total a child’s crayon box, lies
Explosions, a beautiful sunset cried;
Forlorn for the day’s end, ponder: now why?



























Standing overhead, watch and sense the end;
Wondering what is done, the final word.
Trying to finish the ultimate task;
Never quite able to close with the sun.
Words left unsaid, designed actions not done;
Attempts to accomplish, to patch, to mend.
The final hoot of the barn owl being heard,
Softly, the final breath was caught at last.