some clouds are crossing my mind
if I am a window
or a perceiver
which I am
some clouds are crossing
me and this window.
I’m not so certain it’s going to be a storm
anymore, he tells us
as a voice through little black holes:
Its going to use the wind off the coast
and pull south, now
if I were I storm
I’d probably head back to the ocean, too.
or, I’d ride with the wind
like the cowboy
in a weather van.


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