Oh Yes, the Clouds Leave Traces
The morning clouds left traces.
Small drops formed from even smaller drops pulled close by airy dust.
Floating at first, becoming heavy, and starting a gentle drop to earth. Moving imperceptibly faster to speeds as fast as possible.
Hitting the earth's surface, making a point and an imprint, only to be pulled into the dust and disappear.
Soon, the dust could hold no more, and drops escaped.
First, not moving far, but soon as many drops became one, they were pushed by the pull of the downward force and stretched into threads of liquid, soon woven into a sheet of fluid, pulled over the surface.
Then, led by stronger pulls, narrowed through lows, pushing the dust and separate grains aside, to deeper lows.
Stopping suddenly, because the pull disappeared. Yet, soon feeling the swirling pushing, moving together of communal eddies, rushing past other phantom drops, grabbing and merging without warning until a new flow, a new path is present. And, the pushing and cutting begin again. Rushing to a new lower, unknown goal.
Oh yes, the clouds leave traces.
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