Cloud Phobia
Like lilies, purely white and funereal in use,
The clouds above our head trigger
Memories of our days - of me and you - upon the mountains,
Walking to and fro’, sliding upon an ice floe.
From long away they seemed like stone;
Shining marble – hard yet dependable.
Sifting through them close at hand,
I soon seek your comfort in this edenic land.
Standing here in the rain of your eyes,
Your copses in the distance weeping and waning,
I now want to return to our Pangea;
Our united life without this forbidding cloud phobia.
© Joseph Tradescent
Poems
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