Clouds Poem by Ayhan Diril

Freshly washed clouds in tides
start taking their routine rides.
They wonder the white doves
flying with their flapping loves.

An umbrella of a cloud covers that village
As a lonely eagle takes a great milage.
The leaves turn yellow, a lonely child
trembles in the corner, with lips never smiled.

These clouds are heralding the fall,
between us building a high wall.
Even the sparrows disappeared
No more birthdays are there.

Birthdays, not known by sparrows
Yet they have been hit by arrows.
Clouds gather in groups to make a move.
Forget? So hard to get out of a groove.

On my forehead clouds give me a kiss.
As if giving sending me some bliss.
Clouds over my head boiling slow
Clouds, don't leave us without glow!