The hand of the sky
with its paintbrush of blue
slid over the heavens
above me and you.
And over the course
of the brisk autumn day
it painted the sky
every color but grey.
From the warmth of the morning
filled with its light
to the azure of the evening
leading into the night.
Then as dark drew near
the hand painted its last
and filled out vision
with stars like glass.
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