More sky

I remember when I began therapy and the therapist likened the beginning sessions to dumping out the puzzle pieces.  In my jigsaw puzzle days,  I learned to find the edge pieces first.  Today I am working on the sky.  Of course it*s entirely possible my sky plans may defer to the black sticks of the elderberry bush in the garden bed.  Sky may come tomorrow.

Puzzle pieces on the dining table.

From time to time

The cat bats one or two under a chair.

I am in need of more sky

A cloud or two,

A particular shade of blue,

A hint of gray to match

The hint of gray

On the piece I hold.

By this time

The edges are pretty much

In place:

Boundaries.

Today I work on the sky.

It bleeds from steel gray

To blue

To white.

The sky goes to ground

Blends with the snowscape.

There is no picture on the box,

In fact

No box anymore.

Just the Tupperware container

In its place.

I need more pieces of sky.

This morning I work

On the sky,

Unless of course it goes too quickly

To ground:

The elderberry bush

Black sticks in the garden bed.

It may be green

Come spring.

Today I need more sky.

There must be more pieces

Of sky.