This poem is about the clouds. More importantly what you see in them and what they see in you.
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To slumber ‘neath sky,
on green grass and purple heather.
To look up and sigh,
at soft clouds as light as feathers.
To watch dinosaurs,
open their mouths and squish their prey.
To spot floating ships,
weigh anchor and sail from bay.
To besiege castle,
lofty turrets and battlements.
To open the door,
mangy room full of God’s blueprints.
To be a child,
captured in nature's petri-dish.
To be let wild,
visions swallowed by a great fish.
Glaciers of Washington State
6 years ago
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