Nothing On The Wind Poem by Willis Martyn

Small white cloud
rolling in warm translucent hue.

Your sun bleached fingers reach out to wordless blue.

I lay this summer day
and look up
at you.
(where do you travel to?)

Stem of grass in the corner of my mouth,
arms folded beneath my head

and there you rush across the sky.
Who to witness your play with the wind?

perhaps

only I
(and only until you pass by) .

You, me

impossibly free

sharing



infinity.