the night the clouds were freed

Personal Reflection 1 Minute

This is for Visual Verse Anthology September issue. I haven’t posted the image in case others want to submit. This poem will not be submitted.

we make the clouds
clouds of spume
of earth’s breath

we’re all waiting
for Numeena, waiting
in the light-scuffed sea

here, here she comes now
stepping down from
the iron-filing sky

she lets go the story 
the story of freed clouds 
this is how the story begins

with a moon-cast leopard
prints soft, like wave shadow
Numeena releases this quilt, 

this sky of errant night
her bromide cloak
frees sky-prints, pads of grey

watched by that
tilted-grin moon,
moon cast in silver string

moon in palm’s hold
cocked to hear the jangling
the jangling of whale spouts 

the keyless notes of wave song
against our thundered feet
solid feet beneath a cloud-roam sky

Published by abigfatcanofworms

We all walk in the dark. But if we hold hands, perhaps the dark won't be as scary.

Published

8 thoughts on “the night the clouds were freed”

      1. They’ll never know! You are honest though. I don’t submit it either if it’s taken longer. But it’s beautiful and I’m glad you shared it here. Love that last stanza and “the keyless notes of wave song.”

        Liked by 1 person

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