-Hannah Colbert, Grade 12

The sky at dusk is like my father doing Tai Chi in a big room;
early in the morning, he's moving through the porcelain stillness,
after the sun sets, the clouds are waltzing towards night.
Both are all soft moves and graceful circles,
the slow gestures of strength across the empty room,
the slow paths treading on the wind, across the sky.
There is no curtain to go up.
If there are any viewers, it is accident only.
The man, the sky, they perform for no one;
it is their very nature to be purple and common gold,
to be patient, practicing,
the man moves even as the clouds do,
the clouds move even more like the man.
When they finish, no applause.
It is only the end.
The man and the clouds go their separate ways.
My father starts to make breakfast.
The clouds fade over the horizon.