Lonesome Cumulus

I heard a bluster in the sky
I heard it clamor loud;
First thought it was a tempest's cry
But there was just some cloud.

Lone clouds are hailing when they pass
I guess they'd love to stay.
My misty boy far-off, alas
Life is a getaway!

If clouds could come and go at will
And be one's invitee
They'd smother all the parlor, still
And bland they could not be.

Thus, with my shy salute file past––
We would not consort well:
You, by yourself in heaven's vast
And I in poky hell.

December 2, 2007