Thanks Governor


Billowy towers, hovering above us,

Anchored firm to some invisible conveyor belt

That passes lazily before our upturned eyes --

Work of some celestial calliope

Whose silent music fills the sky with overtures,

And whose stops and muted swells and visible crescendos

Repaint the sky into a rainbow of pastels

And now again permit a shaft of light to find A heav'nly path to earth.

O Clouds, how much we are reminded by your distant presence --

How much reminded by your silent and imposing structure --

That we are all alone -- alone together, yes, but still alone --

A host of cosmic prisoners, left abandoned on a chunk of rock,

Forever locked inside a beautiful, incredible museum.

-- John Bryant (Bryant's Law and Other Broadsides)






















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