Luminosity Study


Luminous clouds, floating care free,
where are your strings?
Aren’t there any children holding you
from the ground?
What volume but with such
little weight.
And with such little waiting.
Only a breeze and your ventures
around the terrain begin.
Eruptions of dark gray
blocking the sun,
shadow land crawls
over the fields and hills.
There, disguised as giraffe,
now a hippo, your
ever changing shapes
disappearing, blending
into this soup we call sky.
Your edges colliding
with others, then fattening
and softening, a more settled,
complacent, afternoon matinee.
Whatever I have been thinking,
I should have been
noticing the feeling of light
coming from within
and poking out of the delicate
skin of heavenly monsters.

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