Sunday, 7 October 2012

Some Errant Clouds by Ken Wheatcroft-Pardue

Some errant clouds scud along the sky,
While their shadows glide along the topography
over hills, malls, rivers, ghettos, burbs.

My blinking eyes, catch this scene.
But between my ears, I wonder . . .
why is this so special?

Same damn clouds as 10, 20, 30, or a millennium ago.
White cumulus with just a streak of blue
racing, patches of azure between them.

So why am I staring, my feet stuck, my neck craning
up at this moveable, ever malleable sky?

 Ken Wheatcroft-Pardu, Texas, USA

1 comment:

Poetry24 said...

You capture the sense of endless wonder very nicely, Ken. I spend a lot of my time looking upwards, too.