Clouds
When days were young, my love and I
would search the clouds for faces.
On pillowed grass, we two would lie.
The clouds today may hold traces
of a love that was paused in time,
then vanished to unknown places.
Forgotten now, like poet's rhyme,
I search for faces in the clouds
a friend, a child--how clouds can mime!
Among the blue, are foamy crowds--
faces of those I used to know.
But that one face is not allowed.
Aimless, perhaps, but we below
see clouds forming a quaint tableau.
March 3, 2023
for "Each Passing Cloud" contest
by JCB Brul
First Place
Copyright © Ann Peck | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment