Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Poem: Pocket Full of Clouds

Pocket Full of Clouds

When I was a young boy
I wanted to put clouds
in my pocket.

I knew clouds moved
because they were alive
and breathed

I thought the clouds could play
a game of hide and seek
and always win

The sky was always bigger
when there were clouds
to fill the empty space

Now that I am old man
I know the clouds are
still alive and will be

When I fill the empty space
with only clouds
in my pocket.

December 2008

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