Literature
Sky Eyes
As August crept in,
The wideness of the skies above
Became a perfect storybook blue,
And I wondered how many dreams
I might chase across it,
How many more might wilt?
Evaporating in the heat,
Inconsistent, insubstantial ,
Mirages I cling to for a comfort.
I saw your eyes there above me--
Are you real,
Or did I just imagine you too
?