The wind caresses drifting cheeks in the deserted streets. Schoolchildren are at their desks, sullen. Against gray skies where clouds lose shape and swiftness, shifting redwood screens and plum trees in bloom unleash the soul. Aloft, it glides above secret cliffs. Graph this blowing, electrify lines that the warm, humid air will fill and swell.
2 thoughts on “Gray skies”
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This is a very descriptive passage, but I find it baffling. I read it once and saw war but the second and third time, I feel uncertain of what the description language was trying to portray. I get the negative undertone of unhappy times. what is meant by, “trees in bloom release the soul.” ?
I didn’t think of war, but of other hidden tragic things, you are right about that. By “unleashing the soul” I meant (or I think I meant) that blooms woke me up on my walk on a rainy morning, along streets where you see gray concrete or tar and machines, and people in machines, and invited me to see the miraculous shapes and colors around me, including the machines (cars). The flying/gliding is not effortless but it is given by the wind: I was thinking of how hard it is to think straight about and beyond social structures (including the ancient ones, like life in antiquity), yet hoping to be lifted, I a schoolchild (an old one admittedly).