From Thompson H. Everingham.


At times I glance up at the sky
just to read the
clouds as they pass by
fiery red when day is done
or billowy white in midday sun
There are dark black
forms outlined with light.
That drift slowly by on
moonlit night.
perhaps a sunlit cloudbank forms
with dark gray sides
foretelling storms
Now That shape’s a house
That one’s a town’
Look! There’s a sailboat
harbor bound.
At times whole mountains
come in view.
There are ancient towns with castles too.
Clouds offer me a gallery
of misty forms and fantasy.
What’s more… they’re mine exclusively.
The cloud art of my mind.

© Thompson H. Everingham June 2008.

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