between sky and ground

up ahead, east,
an isolated rain
cloud bruised
beneath its glowing
white peaks drops
a wash
of ink that doesn’t
touch down, just
floats, like me,
indefinitely

2011

4 Responses to “between sky and ground”

  1. Ned says:

    I must admit I have a soft spot for virga. Hell, it’s the only rain we get most of the time. Gorgeous poem, great rhythm. I’ve been reading it aloud, by myself, which if you think about it, is kind of like the poetic version of virga, never landing anywhere.

    • wordweed says:

      thank you for teaching me the name of this cloud…and for handing a prose poem right back to me in your comment. I’m missing your blog. I check it a couple times a week for new posts. No pressure. (Ok, I am pressuring you just a little.) Give us some more words and photos, please!

  2. Nun in abiding says:

    Wow, the weeded has been busy in her garden. Riding of a thistle or two. Mayhap even finding a new sprout. This Weader is most intwegued.

  3. Nun in abiding says:

    Ok his was supposed to say the Weeder and ridding. A little too mucho auto correct. Massive rue on me part.

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