Skylight

From my small room's skylight comes the

blue, a faint streak of cloud crossing it.

As my eye wanders, I lie here in early

morning, conscious that you could see

that sky from the other side of the world,

three hours ahead, but devoid of cloud.

And how I wish I were able to see you

as it does, whenever it likes, lazily.

**

JRTF

15/11/2016