Sky

The blue canvas is all mine

Inside, I'm mixing colors

Brushstrokes through the window

A blink, moistened lashes

Sometimes it dons grey

Sometimes pink or crimson

The sky knows it all

My joy and apprehension

Tufts of white waft 

From across horizon's streak

Perhaps they're those words

That sky would never speak

Words that ebbed away 

Words that didn't make a start

Words that emerged from a rummage

And only caused the lips to part

And yet we have a conversation

Sky and me, beyond words

It knows why I look out through the window

I know why it dons colours