by Jamie Olds
(1993)
Tanned, dirty children
Sitting on hot steps
Waiting for the sky to burn.
Mourning, depressed teens
Passing idle time making delightful ogres of themselves
Waiting for the sky to burn.
Moaning, complaining adults
Throwing pots and pans to show their day-to-day anger
Waiting for the sky to burn.
He and I, joyful and expectant,
Waiting for the sun to rise,
And our beautify to be seen,
For we know that the sky will not burn.