Back to clouds then. Clouds like tornadoes get their fair amount
of adulation and an obscure --to me-- horde of loyal watchers.
This poem of mine is dedicated to a cloud chaser.
A cloud chaser
His eyes
pinned
On the
celestial sphere
Pursuing
ever elusive
Fugitives
Be it lucid or be it leaden
They
never tire
They stow
away
Behind
peaks
They leap
onto
The
glistening lakes
A hostage
to their erratic ways
In
bondage to a trivial pursuit
His days
aimlessly flutter by
His path
fusing with their flight
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