Blue

Too hot this time to think about thinking
so I float along in the hammock
hands shading eyes
watching poplar leaves shimmer in the sun
like shards of Tiffany glass
wrapped up in the silken blue of a
perfect Alberta summer sky

My uncle
who has lived too long away
tells me we live in Big Sky Country
and take it for granted, the blue
that goes on until forever on these days
when the air hardly moves
and even the farthest horizon is highlighted
across blonde canola blooms

I didn't know myself
until I found me enclosed for a time
in the grey of an artificial jungle
(and saw my eyes turn concrete to match)
how much of what I am
depends on days

of still, hot summers
scattered with green
and yellow
and perfect, open skies
touching endless fields
with neverending blue

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A bit early to post a summer poem, I suppose, but yesterday's temperature put me in the mood.

This one is supposed to be rambling and lazy, so the near lack of punctuation is on purpose. Just picture swinging in the hammock, enjoying a warm day and a clear blue sky.

The open, blue sky is something about Alberta that I'd miss terribly if I ever moved. I've visited other places, obviously, and it's amazing how much the lack of a good sky can close a person in. I'd swear, it's almost a claustrophobic world for those of you who don't get the chance to really enjoy your sky.