Paintings in the Sky

The sky spreads itself wide,

a canvas, breathless and unspoken.

As dusk dips its brush in purple and gold.

 

Each cloud is a stroke,

soft as whispering wind,

bold as the  stars.

 

With a brush of dark velvet,

it scatters diamonds across the blue,

And everyone holds a story,

of the silence between 

the stars and the sky.

 

The moon rises,

a painter’s final touch,

carved in silver,

casting its glow,

painting shadows,

etching memories,

on the earth below.

 

And in this hour,

The sky is both artist and canvas; 

Each night, a new masterpiece unfolds.

AngryDuckReads

CA

13 years old

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