Clouds Poem by Albert Ahearn

Winter clouds drift like arctic floes
On an atmospheric river;
wind herding, prodding them onward
to a repetitive future.
The clouds always enthralled my mind.
Their aesthetic varying shapes
captured my imagination.
As a child I would gaze at them;
letting their shapes form images
in my mind others couldn’t see.
I still watch them as an adult
change into phantom images
shown above by the first four lines.