1 minute read
Looking Up
It’s a little after 5 As she walks outside.
Wind whips, Clinging to her clothing, But she is oblivious.
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Her gaze is elsewhere, Her eyes set on the sky, The setting sun.
She stares. Clouds painted purple Springing from a bright orange. A glowing sphere. Pockets of pink fluff Brush the deepening blue.
But still, There is gray. An ominous charcoal Looming overhead. Sprawling out, Mixing with the light.
She is oblivious As she walks outside.
