Most days I like to look up at the clouds

my back upon the earth and my eyes upon the sky.

Peace comes to me horizontally.


I pass the house, empty now of  friends

and feel within an emptiness  exceeding expectations.

I think that I’ll not pass that way again.


The quiet surface of a nearby lake

showed me the sky.  I  tip toed slowly to the water’s edge

and  saw an old man  framed  in blue, with clouds.


This entry was posted in Poems. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply