Goodbye Blue Sky

Just a few images of clouds taken while dodging raindrops and one of the finished poems from the new body of work which now has the working title of Cantrip and Loveletter…

August

There is a before and after,
a weighing and a finding.
What do we do with our fingers
when we come to the ends
of the threads; logic has failed
and we hold ourselves upright
like weeds, like sickly trees propped
in place with twine and stake
against the wind; against
the weight of our own gravity.
It is three minutes past midnight,
the night is dark and filled up
with shadow and everything
is well until it is not.