Look Skyward

you can hardly see the specks 

in the clouds, but they are there,

the skydivers, their colorful kites

winding up and down the thermals,

like the backbone of a DNA molecule,

each person close to the other,

never colliding.  

I stopped to look, squinting my eyes,

distracted by the pattern in the clouds,

the slot of blue above the hilltops,

the brown grasses of winter on the

gentle slopes.

those skydivers up there, do they see 

the same beauty or are their eyes full

of tears from the wind rushing 

across their faces