Cumulus, Midmorning
Watching the clouds travel by,
fast moving, each one a soul
I name. There's work to be done
up there, sweeping the sky clear
of sorrow, leaving unblemished
blue to lighten the load we carry.
They have been unburdened
from theirs, still care for the
absolution of the earthly.
Copyright © Nola Perez | Year Posted 2011
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