Painted Sky (Not)

this, too, is after i got home from my sleepaway camp Rowe. while i was at rowe, i wrote a poem called "Painted Sky" (it's on the website too). when i wrote this, the sky looked like it did on 'the day of painted sky,' but it felt different, meaner.

 

Today, the sky

the same deep, intense

periwinkle;

identical

to the day of painted sky

but exactly opposite,

its metaphorical throat slit

by black, smoldering

scorch marks

the only traces

of silently seething power lines

slashing through the universe.

Author's Note

...it's not really polished...suggestions are appreciated...all that jazz...

Reviews

[Onyx Sky]

This one has a lot more edge. Both of the painted sky poems I think can be put together as one poem and be kind of like a call and response if you catch my drift. This one spoke to me more for some reason.
Fave Line:
"its metaphorical throat slitby black, smolderingscorch marks"