During the day in our atmosphere

the black of space turns blue 

as small white clouds drift overhead

 

Some afternoons in our hemisphere

our globe slides away from our single sun

turning bright white light into layers of orange and yellow

 

When our planet turns completely into the dark

harsh sunlight is replaced with the muted colors of our 

solitary moon,  perfectly round for only a few days 

 

What sounds mundane is often beautiful

the repetition of the cycles diminishes nothing