Clouds white like marshmallows.
Spreading out beneath us.
Cool whip swirls.
With sunbeams
Breaking through.
What would it be like
To run in them?
To wrap them around my body
Like a feather comforter,
For a Sunday afternoon nap?
Too bad it’s only vapor.
Not as thick as it looks!
No real substance to hold.
I’d fall through, I’d get cold.
But beautiful from afar!
Appearances of comfort,
of softness, of warmth.
Inviting- but nothing…
Only vapor.
Spreading out beneath us.
-cjb
2 comments:
Is this your picture?
no...I wish. But when I wrote this poem on a plane at the beginning of this summer...the view looked just like this picture.
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