Quiet Cloud; Slightly Sodden

That quiet cloud
became a bird.

Yeah it did,
busted out
of its shell
all spread
eagle as hell.

Remember?

Stormy
weather 
purpled 
its feathers.

I haven’t forgotten.

It
came 
with rain 
in late autumn,
we didn’t care, no 
problem, we’d worn 
sandals in the grass, 
listened to the rinse of 
the forest, kissed and
curled up right there,
rolling in the dew,
slightly sodden 
imprints of 
your hand
on my shirt...

And then, remember when its shape 
was wounded by the wind, all tattered 
and thinned, remember how saddened

we’d 
been

?

The End

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