Monologue to a Cloud
You drift in solitude
Cotton soft and delicate
On a freehand canvas
Painted orange, and pink
Torn like carnival candy
But virginal in touch
The wind is your companion
Your traveller and friend
It whisks you round the world
From frozen spaces to spicy lands
You disappear and reappear
The cycle goes round again
Come rain, come sleet, come snow
You're the sieve from which they fall
And sometimes like an old man, grumble
As the darkness is destroyed.




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