we don’t deserve clouds
like this
some that are not like swans
but close
most of all the seahorses
that do not rock
but roll along
and lingeringly spread
into torn pieces of cotton
as wiry strands whisper their farewells
like pocket lint these things dot the sky
clouds like this
as after a brief rainstorm
when splotches of pasty blue are puddled with white streaks
clouds like this
could make us think in different ways
from the ways of thought we normally take
not less than spying dolphins
or the traces of a lionfish’s showy fins
a scattering that is not unlike us
to do
sometimes
but
even so
we still don’t deserve it
if you could fault clouds for leaving
and if there were only an empty ache to take their place
would a nephologist merely smile
in some unknowable gesture of defeat
like a ripple in the troposphere
spouting off some words like
actinoform
cirrocumulus
altostratus
stratus
cumulonimbus
or
if you went washing in the worried light
and got lost in the sky
there might be a way to understand
other than forgetting
about shapes and shadows and ciphering and forgiveness
singing might do
but even a whistle would seem too much
and so
there wasn’t much to lose in the first place
after all
this
and
besides this
for now
it will do
this undeserved wonder
at least until something better comes along
to pack up the water vapor of regret
and leave the ice crystals of to-morrow
to form whatever they may
in the forever changing now
something that we might offhandedly call
the sky
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