Monday, March 7, 2011

bygone cloud

like a hand that holds an ankle,
I felt powerful in your arms
this dancing, this pointed push, this bygone cloud.
with my face in your belly- I curled myself inside
a spinning, dizzied head with girl-hair flying.

raining. droplets squeal and suckle mother pane. wash it clean.

Darling, hearths awaken inside of here,
and outside chilly winds dispute,
your warmth undying, I do not drift.
I swim in tears to your willowy shore.
depart from this-haphazard nonsense-
I am clinging to your trunk.

and I will only point to clouds
silent, white, and empty.


  1. Is this present - is this past?
    Evocative nonetheless.


Reach for the clouds. . .

Tickle your toes. . .

Poets United Contributor