There is nothing better than a truly beautiful sky

The moon has been in a fight tonight
And the bruise spreads across the sky;
Yellow and purple. I think maybe
The mountain is broken.
We’ll need to get that fixed
And hope it sets.
You are leaning on the fender
Skirtucked and leatherbooted
Foot tapping to the melody
Of Sam Cooke singing
The sounds of dignity
In the face of oppression.
The whiskey bottle
Catches the headlights
Occasionally
And your face;
Your face.
And until tonight
I stood firm on the fact
That there is nothing better
Than a truly beautiful sky.