When

the clouds hover above
in meandering grey
nothing in hand
the people stand

looking up at
the drab sky
drained of blue
and dazzling gold

eyelids flutter
butterflies unwilling
to succumb under
blindness

eye-lashes
whip up and down
etching out
a perspective

the gossamer
of youth dreams
flutter too
against the wind

pupils stare ahead
occasionally taking
side glances
dreaming reality