Pensive Clouds Reflect on Themselves

dead-tree-and-sky-1

 

Shapes in the clouds are

More sophisticated than I

Recall from childhood. They

Have read, traveled, expanded

 

Their horizons. Aged.

One of them looks

Like a man in a winter hat,

Deep in thought, wishing

 

He could see things otherwise;

Yet he looks wise enough

To know without seeing

What shapes moonlight

 

Could reveal in these very

Clouds. As he thinks, he blows

Steam from the rim of a sky-

Blue cup. The impetus of breath

 

Scuds the vapor. It moves

From him as if across

A sky among clouds,

One of which looks

 

Like a man in a winter hat,

Wise and full of thought,

Blowing a sigh of steam

From his vast blue cup.

 

 

January 6, 2008

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