Kugelblitz

sunny

Sunny peeks through
her blanket weaved from clouds.

everything below her seems so small..
the humans in machine boxes, speeding all around below,
patchwork quilts spreading all around
(her mother tells her that they are called fields)

sometimes she passes over
clusters of boxes
she isn't sure what makes them this way,
but they
smell funny
and have weird fog covering them.

Sunny knows she shouldn't,
but
sometimes,
only sometimes,
she jumps out of her covers
and hovers close to the human world,
trying to catch a glimpse of one of them.

but for some reason Sunny does not know,
every time she comes close,
they draw away
scurrying into one of the boxes they call "home".

Sunny doesn't know why they run from her,
but she does know it makes her sad.

so
she goes back to her blanket of clouds,
and sinks down
down...
down...
down.

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this poem was written in the middle of August, 2016.
this is a bit different than what i usually write, so what did you think of it?