Cloud Poem by Kay Ryan
Cloud
A blue stain
creeps across
the deep pile
of the evergreens.
From inside the
forest it seems
like an interior
matter, something
wholly to do
with trees, a color
passed from one
to another, a
requirement
to which they
submit unflinchingly
like soldiers or
brave people
getting older.
Then the sun
comes back and
it's totally over.
Wednesday, January 16, 2019
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5/3/2024 11:11:59 PM # 1.0.0.1119
