The sky was a canvas painted gray,

But blue still fell from it,

Coming down to Earth like bullets,

Hitting the ground,

Piercing the dirt,

Forming swimming pools,

For the ants,

That they can play in,

Until the yellow comes,

Overtaking the gray,

And lapping up the blue,

Nurturing everything under its care,

And gray doesn’t return until,

The blue comes with it,

And they can rule once again.

By James Decker

Tripp Middle School