I look to the sky, seeing nitrogen, oxygen,
argon, water, and light.

“The biggest white mass,” you ask,
“What do you see it as?”

To me, it seems a pirate ship.
To you, it seems a house.

We have on our hands: a person,
a difference, and each of these three
is pretty.

But you look to the sky, seeing rock, clay,
sand, and silt.

“That big white mass… That fossil…” you start,
and I haven’t the heart to stop you and say,
“Yes, that big white mass… That cloud…”
Your eyes can call the white a house,
while I can, glad, cry, “Pirate ship”,
for yours are not my irises…

But your sky,
my dear,
our sky,
Darling, it is above that ground
on which both you and I are planted…

We have on our hands: a truth,
a lie,
a difference, and two of these things
are ugly.

I start to try
to talk of the sky,
but I won’t get the fog to lift…

You ask about fossils;
I look to those clouds,
and I whimper,
“Pirate ship.”

17 thoughts on “Clouds

  1. You wield analogies like weapons… I have long thought that, but for the life of me, cannot recall if I passed it along to you… I am envious. I always wanted to be the king of analogy.

    Great piece here, Lydia Rae. Your March is off to a roaring start.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you very much! I don’t think you’ve said that before… And wielding analogies like weapons is a pretty great analogy. 😉
      Good to hear from you! Thanks for the comment!


    • Thank you so much! That means a ton. The idea of a person seeing fossils instead of clouds in the sky is kind of ridiculous, so I’m glad the metaphor worked for you! Thanks for giving the poem so much attention, and thank you for the comment!

      Liked by 1 person

      • My interpretation about fossils in the sky which impressed me was this rationalist-materialist (scientific argument) perspective of how someone could view things. It’s a poem you could read again and have a totally different perspective. Congratulations on a wonderful poem!


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