Here’s an easy stretch for today, in case you are sore from yesterday’s tough one.
Describe the sky, as it looks right now.
Every jet in the world has crossed the Laramie Valley and left behind a jumble of pick-up sticks on a powder blue table. The newer lines are crisp beams of white shooting across the sky. Older ones drift and dissolve, twisted by high-altitude winds that leave me untouched as I enjoy the gentle, sunny morning.