Swooping down, she pulled the sky
so high I could see tomorrow.
Giving me wind and a wing, and boy
did I fly!
Until, the sun set, the tailwind
crossed, the skies darkened.
She threw up mountainous thunderheads,
they cut like a shard of glass.
A howling chill cast, from the walls she
shattered in an un-forecasted storm.
The heavy blanket shot
over my heart won't warm the chill,
until the sun rises.
