shapes in the clouds

    She’s absence of crowds.

  A thought-I-saw;
An auroral ripple;
      A stipple of rarest light
  Over dew-bladed glade through tree-spaces;
          Traces of refunded innocence;
    A feather-fight in the leaves;
              The weave of breeze along my spine.

              The blush on a half-moon;
    Secrets heart-slid across the floor,
          Yore-shadows at bay beyond the glow;
  The haunt of time at the window;
      Wafts of want on unfaded bow;
An echo of bolt and boom
  From childhood-loomed storm-wonders.

  A collection of candy
      In fragile-pink fingers;
    A living, careening carousel;
          A dream that lingers well into grey;
    A casted ream of smile-spun spells;
      Stellar bells hung from a star;
  The hypnotism of fire from far away.

  A length of laughter;
An album of longing-after;
      A saltless, restless rosemary tear;
  Fear hung by a noose in my chest;
          The safest way through the wilderness;
    A waifish kiss on a wound;
              A proof of heaven too soon.

              A swoon on a night-sweat;
    A thousand-fold bet wagered and won;
          Bubble-gunned down in the sheets;
  Bars of glass and a handkerchiefed hammer;
      A breathless, made-it getaway run;
A rung to freedom and freckled sun;
  A stammer on the tongue.

    She’s shapes in the clouds.

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    Poetry: Off-Key
        https://windstrewn.com/2019/09/26/off-key/