the sky

the sky
was dappled with
hanging grapes.
grey loaves of
blue,
purple capes
of tinted clouds.
it looked religious,
even without
the saints, or
Christ with open arms
in its sweep
above the bare trees,
the silver
sleeve
of water below it.
with a brush, if I
could paint,
if I had
the talent and patience
to sit
before a canvas,
this then would be
my masterpiece.