The sky is falling.
And Henny Penny is nowhere to be found.
There is no bright blue cartoon sky,
no pop-up green grass.
Only a grey horizon with a single black cloud
drifting like a hole in the sky.
Minutes later, I watch rain disappear from the radar,
watch the sun blink through the clouds.
And I feel like some dumb chicken,
panic knocking against my purple chicken heart,
the seed of some silly fear
planted deep in my tiny bird brain.
Chris Tusa
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sky-is-falling-3/
