Poem By Cyndy Roy

drifting on a wind
cursing the muddy sky
of lonesome teardrops
cumulonimbus clouds promise
to wash me clean of my youth
starved and empty
drenched beneath
delightful aromas of
incipient blossoms
my ground softens
penetrated deeply
with droplets of hope
my roots imbibe in possibility
thirsty and eager
too eager
too thirsty
like a child
devastated by internal, eternal war
I'm greedy
one day I'll learn
clouds are elusive
pouring on their own timeline
riding their own wind
and cannot be touched
yet I still cry
when a special cloud passes me by

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