The Clouds

by Samantha Alman

The Clouds I rest upon the blades of twisted grass –
Tangled in my hair, like a headdress
Or like a wreath on Christmas Eve –
And watch white haze fan across the sky.
My thoughts, these days, are like those summer clouds,
Wafting in and out, in and out
But sometimes, making waiflike silhouettes
In the brilliant blue sky,
Clear only to those summer dreamers
Who lay their backs on the sun-drenched earth
And watch for drifting circus animals.
Summer is the best season for love, I think.
The sun makes the soil more alive,
The sea more gentle,
And it puts the clouds at bay.

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