A Sky of Purple and Orange

The sky
hovers above me,
soulless and
doleful,
hanging clouds
pregnant with rain.
Angry, they seem.
Might be that they
miss you, too.

My sky
shouldn’t
have to be so grey.
Were it a canvas,
I’d use watercolors
to paint it dazzling
purples,
oranges,
colors of love
or perhaps
lust.
And
floating in the corner
would be a
playful sun,
golden and kind−
a little warmth for
my spirit.

But,
my paints do
nothing
without you
to show them the way.

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