Writing at my desk, I turn my head

and see clouds through windows,

 piling and stretching, coalescing,

unlike the hard edges of human symbols

rigid traps for thoughts sent

from one isolated mind to others.

Clouds roam the January sky

a documentary film of wild thought

roaming the open mind morphing in subtle

shifts from one shape to another or

sliding into seamless combination or

 separating into frayed

fragments evaporating into mist

sprinkled over the blue background

to be caught and molded

newly by the wind.

No translation or subtitles necessary

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