Wait Here. A Poem

A loitering cloud,
hanging around,
smoking,
looking cool
in the leathered sky.

Apparently no agenda,
no place to go,
so it leans against
the evening
and waits for a star.

Comments

  1. sarahmonagle says:

    how I love poems about clouds…

  2. Jerry,

    Neat poem….so it leans against the evening and waits for a star. Love it.

    Wanda

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