On an August Morning

I’ve watched dramatic sunsets now and then,
or sky so blue it almost spanks my eyes,
a valley dawn that makes me sigh “amen,”
and massing clouds portending drought’s demise.
I’ve looked above me over and again,
assessing what our atmosphere supplies.
The view at nearly 7 yesterday
comprised a calm, congenial display.

(Ottava Rima)

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