by Brenna Smith
Ever shifting is the sky—
Every hour, by day or night
Offers up unto the eye
New horizons of delight.
Sometimes soft with sheets of cloud,
Sometimes glowing gentle gold.
Stunning sunsets, brash and proud,
Blaze their colors bright and bold.
Sometimes blessed by brother moon,
Smiled upon by sister sun.
Howling wind-hounds herd the clouds
While the racing raindrops run.
An azure, infinite abyss,
A theatre for the play of stars,
Pale with daybreak’s pearly bliss,
Or rent with wild electric wars.
Ever shifting is the sky—
Every hour, by day or night,
Offers up unto the eye
New horizons of delight.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Brenna Smith is a writer, musician, and teacher born and raised in the Skagit Valley of Washington State and currently based out of Fort Worth, Texas. Her two proudest accomplishments are being impossible to find in hide-and-seek and memorizing Lucky's entire speech from Waiting for Godot.
Last updated April 11, 2025