This is a little short. I don't like it at all but maybe some of you will.
My eyes open and I see the hundreds of yellows and
pinks that scatter the miles of sky.
The dust in the air chokes me.
Voices and smiles fade past my eyes,
none of that is much a surprise.
Holding my breath without knowing
my lungs and chest burn.
This country sky can't save me now.
I'm in somewhat of a dither.
I see the upturn of your smirk late at night
when I have withered and dazed.