A Fallen Blue Words: global warming, boat, sing, soundlessly, wolf, furious The sky was furious. Smoke drifted up, up, up into the blue. Her voice, so intoxicatingly sweet most days, could not be heard from beneath the haze of gray. Gray and red, anger and torment swarming the horizon. The hills that usually pierced frayed clouds seemed to foreshadow danger as red and pink loomed above. High up in the sky that no longer seemed to me the heavens, somewhere in my imagination, I heard a wolf howling for home. The cries of the suffocating sky were not piercing. Not pounding, not an unignorable shriek of threats– no, it was much more silent. Singing, almost, crying pathetically for a homeland that no longer existed. I heard the noise through the pane of glass, glass that separated hazardous air from home. I heard the pining as the wolf of the heavens cried, soundlessly, so soundlessly, high above the world. Cried. Crept into my soul, slowly. I heard the noiseless cries for home. I heard it. Yet it was silent. Life seemed a fairytale. A myth, no longer in existence. The sky seemed a villain but in reality it was a mirror. A mirror, reflecting the horrors of the world. A mirror, swarmed with the smog that was our breath, the toxic breath of humanity. Of global warming. Climate change. Burning air. Air of gray. The sky was a mirror; a tormented prisoner. Begging, begging, pleading to return to blue. A mirror of reflective glass, fogged up by our breath. Our breath. Our breath, which never seemed to cease. Somewhere, through the pane of glass, I heard a wolf, crying in the distance. The wolf of the heavens somewhere– somewhere… it was gone now. But somewhere, I heard an echo, soundlessly pining as the sky began to sing. Sobbing, heart wrenched and broken. My heart was dull. We had killed the sky.