It is weird, it is strange
It is bizarre, really
I can't explain it,
The sky is empty today
The world has lost its magic
I don't know what is missing
Just that something is,
The high clouds are there,
The sky is that pale winter blue
The sun is shining
Still the sky is empty
The soft golden light
Defines with sharpness
The fences, trees with a scalpel edge
Everything is in focus
Even the air is crisp and light in its iciness
The missing je ne sais quoi
Is weighty by its absence
I still wonder why is the sky empty?
Lucette C. Bailliet
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