It's Still Life

Forty-Four Words About Clouds

I watched white-eyed clouds today
as they gnawed at the sky,

carved shapes that sang
of twisted and turning lifetimes.

They were incarnations
of dreams, of paused imagination

forged like cast iron mountains
and stretching long as cirrus grass.

I lay there. Watching. Drowning.

dVerse’s Monday Quadrille (i.e.., 44 words) #18: “Clouds”.