How You Must Have Suffered To Pluck A Cloud Poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell

How you must have suffered to pluck a cloud,
to tear its tendrils to rain in my heart,
to sweep the sadness of a coffin shroud
casting long shadows to keep us apart.

The broken pledges and unstoried lies,
how you must have suffered to pluck a cloud,
to furrow the fields of waterless eyes
and carry onward, uncaring and proud.

You struck a chord that was daring and loud.
You were the string to my soaring balloon.
How you must have suffered to pluck a cloud
and place it over the lamp of the moon.

I captured a star to be near my side,
but there are wishes that are disavowed.
I cannot shine where dark sorrows abide.
How you must have suffered to pluck a cloud.