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A Wayward
Cloud
A cloud is a paramour
That seduces the setting sun.
It gives delectation
To the cooling of the earth.
Teasing, as it pleases
And a bit wicked.
It prances and savors.
For its ménage a trois
May be short, but ravenous.
You see, it moves on its way
As quickly as it has appeared. |
A
Wayward Cloud
Hope Tripp |