July 1, 2013 life
To fly like the clouds,
amorphous, rootless,
sailing in the sun and wind,
drifting in and out of being.
I look down,
to catch this moment in words;
I look up,
and the bright magic has left the sky,
leaving a darker beauty,
painful to see,
a poem that does not want
to be written;
and still the clouds roll on,
like the sea,
like the earth,
like me.