Before it was so we rocked on the porch
and looked at the animals, supremely undifferentiated,
With form, without function.
They wuffled together in a milling gray herd.
There's a lot less of them now. "Do you remember,"
I'd say, "when the sky was gray too?"
You'd nod. You told me the time
The Great Sky God spread
His marvellous sash of blue and black
Across the void of the not-heaven,
How the threads that held the clouds shone
In silver points on the black side, and
Bang, sky. "I didn't even know
we had a Great Sky God," you said.
"But it brightened the place up."