AL FRESCO

By Ping Yi Yee

The sky outside the plane today

has a ceiling, like in Vegas –

the Bellagio, no, Caesar’s Palace.

Michelangelo’s done a hack paint job…

The clouds shower notes valley deep,

coaxing the winds to swirl them

into a requiem for you this dawn of frost.

You were one, you were another

you were many. You were us.

Faces fade into gloom grown thick,

seeding these fields of flash and grey.

The pilot pings for seat belts; plane boppin’

a heavenly jive, knuckles down

for the ride towards the light.

Out of the other side of the storm,

the sky stops and tapers off:

somebody standing on top of the palace

on a scaffold, touching up

the fading paintwork.

#darkpoetsclub