Clouds – A Poem

A boy lies on his back
looking at clouds. Only
he is not looking, he is
up there with them, up
where they slide and collide
mysterious as fate
insubstantial as air.

I have not seen clouds
in sixty years, until
today - there, overhead, in the blue
sky that scrolls and unfolds -
there, where they always were.

©

8 responses to “Clouds – A Poem”

  1. sounds like the summers of my childhood in rural Quebec

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  2. Truly lovely.

    I am, quite literally, compelled to go out and ponder at the clouds for a moment.

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    1. Thank you Daniel 🙂 I hope you saw in the clouds what you needed to see.

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  3. Haunting and memorable, again

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    1. And again, thank you, Ian

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  4. […] shirts show signs of wear and tear, The collars frayed, the cuffs rubbed bare. I see the signals everywhere. I see them in my mind like doom. They float like ghosts upon the loom. I slip them on like skin, […]

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  5. O yes, familiar and secure. Then they disappear and turn up in old photos and you wonder about the passing of time.

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