Poem-A-Day: Day 181

The Sky, I Know…

The sky, I know, opens up
and vomits out past regrets
on the cold, unwavering concrete;
hands planted firmly
on the cold, unwavering concrete,
and the sky’s knees bloody,
from weakness and stumbling,
busting open
on the cold, unwavering concrete.

The sky, I know, opens up
and weeps down past regrets
after firmly taking a stance,
planted firmly;
an oak growing from the concrete,
absorbing the sand and rocks
deep within the roots,
feeding the veins of the sky,
and weeping down.

The sky, I know, opens up,
and is not that different from I.
The sky calls out, wails,
and vomits out past regrets,
and weeps down
onto the cold, unwavering concrete;
the concrete holds up the sky, I know,
the concrete holds up the feet pushing down,
the concrete and the sky are two in the same.