Beyond The Cliched Sky

Closing the car door behind me, I walked through an intense sunset toward Radio Shack, a block away. The sky's on fire! , I thought, believing I might have found the first line of a poem. A moment later I realized that a million people think those exact words every night. What can I think, I wondered, that a million people don't think every night? 'The sky burned to ash! ' 'But it didn't! ' a part of me shouted. That part of me is now bound and gagged in the back of my car. Here's the poem that was born: The sky burned to ash, leaving a jewel of lapis lazuli that I wear today in the setting of my ring.