The world felt upside-down.
I gazed at clouds thick and curdled.
They spread in soft rolls, pendulous and fat-bellied.
Hanging compact and solid-more a floor than ceiling.
I wanted to tread on them, bounce on them, test their illusion of solidity.
Use them like a trampoline and leap through misty folds of vapour.
Sink into them like the bubbles on my bathwater.
I wondered how thick they were and how far they spread.
They seemed to continue forever, rolling on as far as they eye could see.
The sky had been coloured in. Smudged over by a giants thumb pressing on a fat grey pastel.
The clouds were low, oppressive and heavy.
A mass of intriguing density.
Yet I know the fickle form of clouds and how the mouldering sky could look completely blue tomorrow.
© Miki Byrne 2010
Tewkesbury, Glos. UK