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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