angst cycle (iii)

up to the gentle white of sheets
familiar homely used a little
and then there are the stains

marks of the kind of thing
memories of urgency and great affection
not for others to see

so why’s it in the sky
stains on the sheets
not grey but gently fading in blue

not cloudless sky
but cloud so thin
the undergarment’s revealed

stained colour in the monochrome
never mind the small islands of storm
like fullstops to be over–ridden

today’s sky has no shame
damn lucky too
another nonsense it ignores

so everyone knows if they accidentally look
that happy times belong
to whomever sleeps in the sky

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