Cloudy premonitions


If only we understood the prophecies the clouds spoke
In their complex fractal visions dancing its form though the sky
For a lost boy waiting to be cool
I’d really appreciate an answer to my why’s

The grass cradling my neck on a breezy summer night
I watched the clouds converse with the stars
Waiting to rid myself of the itch of my skin
And find a cradle for my wandering heart

Momma I might not be coming home tonight
The wind blew my soul like a grocery bag into the distant light

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