I am married to someone who spends hours looking out the bedroom window
identifying shifting cloud formations with - whatever -
can I see the rabbit? or whatever - seldom.
I like to say I see mashed potatoes.
My wife even snaps them for her Facebook page, and gets her Friends to
outvote me on the images.
So I’m the last person to get much from your ‘Kink’, Bill.
Even so I can go some of the way with the waking observer taken by surprise
and finding the words that recreate those few moments.
Max
On Sep 8, 2015, at 15:12, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Kink
>
> Dawn hovers,
> faint light brightening.
> Cloud horizon
> rupture.
> Lying on its side,
> a giant wine glass
> outlined in cloud strip
> jags expected
> evenness.
>
> Framed by bedroom
> window, equal sky
> portions sit within and
> without the vast vessel.
> Sleepy eyes flicker.
> Clouds bleed apart
> almost imperceptibly,
> spilling
> into mass whiteness.
>
> bw
> 9.9.15
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