it was only a cloud
a small white fluff
on a flight-path below star points
hardly seen
against the glare of city lights
it shaped and re-formed
as it drifted
somehow purposeful
across the sky
paused for a moment
gathered itself
took in the whole
of the southern cross
then moved on
© Frank Prem, 2003
What a nice thought that a cloud has a personality.
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I think it gives me an extra dimension to play with when I’m writing. Makes things I write about feel more real. Delighted you enjoyed this.
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