Inky Suns

Inky Suns
Why do we make our inky suns smile?
At the youngest age we draw those
Shiny grins and sunglasses
but this is a lie

The sun does not smile,
Nor does he frown
He merely stares
Stares at we specks below

And he wears no shades to dim his gaze
Just the same is his sister the, moon
Though her gaze is softer for some

The only thing to dull their vision
Are the misty men and women
Who, lifting their gray gowns
Tread a slow and stately procession across the sky

But alas they must also obscure the sight of the stars
Peering through their long silver telescopes
To look upon us, and others
Who catch their eyes

Such is the nature of the Sky folk
Elegant and aloof
Gazing down
And always apart

Fin.