And then the clouds parted,
And there was a shift in the sense.
Below was a mosaic of farmlands,
Of squares filled with circles and streams.
A protective blanket lay over them,
Shielding them from the harms of the sky.
Then, in the distance, a plane flies over,
Disturbing their artful silence.
Flying side by side,
The giant birds scream on;
Their voices a deep roar,
A corruption of the peaceful land.
Lying on the blanket
A man and a woman.
They roll playfully on pillow-top mountains,
Smiling as the clouds envelope them.
Then as their blanket parts,
They fall through it’s deceptive netting,
Down into the sepia mosaic;
Where different squares are really all the same.