The fall always about brings changes Such as the day’s weather getting cooler The deciduous trees giving up their bounty We walk with shuffling feet in an afternoon That a few weeks ago would've been bright With the sun high now in September early Shadows hang long dragging a reflection Of our feelings as we trudge meaninglessly Hoping to find meaning but based on silence That passes it doesn't seem like any reprieve Is coming soon though we’re in no hurry As we pause at the park at near North Moore Looking towards the west at clouds scattered Blown across the Hudson by Easterly winds You run a hand through your hair thoughtfully Speaking “But these clouds are clearly foreign, Such an exotic clutter against the blue cloth of the sky" I don't know what the words mean But the words are beautiful in a way like you Are beautiful a transcending mysterious beauty That even in contemplation I can't understand Yet I find myself falling in love with the unknown
Giving credit where credit is due, this is from Merril D. Smith‘s dVerse prompt to use the quote “But these clouds are clearly foreign, Such an exotic clutter against the blue cloth of the sky” in a poem. I couldn’t follow the rules and keep it to 144 words, so I’m pushing it out one off.
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