In need of a cloud
to carry us –
the kind that keep
a hold and move
like the wide world, so
imperceptibly slow,
past planets small
as stars, with the earth
so far below somehow
life stills,
the swirls of white
on blue
obscuring the shapes
of landmasses
we learned in school.
Microcosmos
Posted Week 07 by Joa · No Comments
Tags: poetry
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