I don’t know when it happened
Or how it got so thick
But there it rests
Between me and the Sky.
I usually resign myself to sputtering about
Generously naming the darkness “healthy doubt”
But on days like these I try to lift my head
Straining weakened muscles to look up
And I scan the veil
For a hole, a thinner place
Where the light bleeds through.
With furtive moves and side steps I inch
Toward warmer earth on my feet and a glare in my eyes.
Some days it’s enough.