upon the infinite sky

Looking over
the infinite sky and wondering
cotton balls floating amid blue tequila
and finding my eyes closed
I wait for the sound of ringing bells
and listening watch
the infinity sky
and wonder
What if, long ago
pioneers treked these frozen fields?
left behind wheels and fires
and ox by the trail.
What if, the pioneers
ripped from their homes
in the early morning hours
didn’t care?
Then quietly the bell rings
my reverie broken
I unbelt
and line up for the restroom.

At 4 pm on a Friday afternoon

Dancing bears with colorful swords

lunge at the whiteness

it is  pristine no more

while in the background thunder storms and ligtening

flow like starbucks espressos

at a late night meeting

each color

blending into the last

until the blur is no more.

And the lumbering bears

leave with shoulders slumped

all meaning lost

all color lost

as the pristine whiteness starts each day, anew.