Stairway
The clouds assembled
In a serried shape
Outlined with a sunlit brush
That drew my sight
And I thought, “Stairway”.
I may have still had a tune
By Zeppelin echoing in my ear,
So the pairing was not unusual,
A surprise, but not unusual.
They mounted to the sky
And seemed to invite a journey
Of discovery
To see if that fabled pot of gold
Had been misplaced
And set in the sky above me.
Struck by the improbability of it all,
I had to write these lines
To celebrate my good fortune.