From Spring Cleaning, published in 2015.


The vast white cloud fills half the sky and is
moving quick on its way to somewhere else
and more just like it are following behind
as I look up right this moment
standing in the gas station filling up the car.
The brisk wind sweeps along
an endless rolling narrative in progress
above my head
and I’m down here
putting gas in the car.

13 thoughts on “Clueless

  1. I love to use the word “scudding” for the movement of clouds and honestly don’t know whether the enjoyment of watching clouds move or love of the word came first. Chicken or egg.

  2. It’s one of those things where the word and the image are sort of one entity. I don’t know if this makes sense or not…but I find it happens to me a lot, word and image kind of fuse together.

  3. Sometimes I feel myself very small in the middle of something larger (as in this case in the poem) but I always come away from it feeling kind of comforted, as if I have my place, too, in all this great universe.

  4. Thank you. There are those moments when you suddenly realize, there is something beautiful in front of me in the middle of my usual life, and it has always been there, waiting, and now I know it is there, I can go back to it again and again, no matter what.

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